Total Recall
by Cassandra Pierson
Summary: McShep! Getting electrocuted by a sculpture was the least of John's problems. The burns would heal quickly. Getting someone else's memories? That was the actual catastrophe. It was just what he needed. Every chapter is a story on its own.
1. Identity

**Important Note to all readers:**

** Every "chapter" of this story is a story of its own. We've decided to post it in CHAPTERS on as this site doesn't allow linking of stories into series or even adding links at the end of a story to make it easier on the readers. Every chapter will have a The End at the end of it to symbolise this. Due to some confusion we've decided to clarify this before readers head to into this story.**

**Currently Total Recall counts 6 stories:**

**1. "Identity****"**  
**2. ****"**Love changes everything ... and nothing**"****  
****3. ****"**Decisions**"****  
4. ****"**Dark Clouds on the Horizon**"**  
5. **"**Bad Moon Rising**"**  
6. **"**For they don't know what they are doing**"**

**A 7th story is planned to take place right after "For they don't know what they are doing", but we haven't managed to finish it quite yet. We hope that this will clear up some of the problems this collection of stories seems to have caused.**

**Enjoy reading these stories, we both still love them to little bits.**

**Love,  
****Melinda & Cassandra**

* * *

**Title:** Identity

**Author:** ca_pierson and darkmoore05**  
Beta:** kimberlyfdr on livejournal**  
Fandom:** Stargate Atlantis**  
Pairing:** pre-slash McKay/Sheppard**  
Rating:** G**  
Word count:** 7.674  
**Warnings:** none**  
Genre:** AU**  
Disclaimer:** Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to us, neither do the characters. This is a work of fannish love and we aren't making any money from it.**  
Author's Note:** This is an Alternate Universe in which Carson never died. Therefore he's still around when Sam takes over in Atlantis.

**Summary:** Getting electrocuted by a sculpture was the least of John's problems. The burns would heal again quickly. The whole thing with getting someone else's memories? Now, that was the actual catastrophe. It was just what he needed.

* * *

**Total Recall 1 - Identity**

**by Melinda and Cassandra Pierson**

Some days John wasn't sure if it was actually worth getting out of bed. Really, he wasn't. What was the _point_ in getting up if he ended up in the infirmary flat on his back with a killer headache anyway?

His fingers still stung from where he'd touched what they'd all thought was a sculpture of some kind. Turned out it wasn't a sculpture after all. Because no sculpture John knew of had the habit of _electrocuting_ innocent passers-by. It didn't matter that Rodney thought it was a piece of artwork mainly using light. It didn't even matter that it might have been _pretty_ – with or without light. All that really did matter was that John felt singed and that his brain felt like mush. And if Rodney said one more time that it was just a minor outlet and couldn't have possibly killed him? Well, John certainly couldn't be held responsible for any of his actions in that case.

That Carson was keeping him overnight wasn't exactly helping John think it was just 'a wee bit of current', either. Absently, John became aware that he was rubbing his right hand again through the bandages. It itched. Abominably so. His whole body felt like there were ants crawling all over – and John really had comparison material from the one time he'd sat on an anthill while hiking. Maybe it had been more than just 'a wee bit of current' because John didn't think that being electrocuted would produce these kinds of sensations. At least it wasn't painful, just … distracting.

To top it off, John was feeling a bit out of it as well. But maybe that was due to the painkillers Carson had given him. Not like he _needed_ painkillers. Carson had overruled him on that with a stern look – almost a glare – and a terse 'shut up, Colonel'. It just wasn't fair. John hated being drugged; it made him feel so ... maudlin. Really rather weird. Weird and it made him babble like mad. Or think weird stuff. Weird, weird, _weird_ stuff.

_You should have paid more attention, Tural__. Y__ou knew that that drone prototype wasn't ready yet. You could have seriously injured yoursel__f._

John's eyes flew open, feeling disoriented. At that place between awake and asleep, something strange had happened. He couldn't quite name what exactly it had been, but in a way it felt a little bit like a fond childhood memory. The only problem with that was that whatever it was he'd just experienced couldn't have been a _memory_. Well, at least not his own. This had been Atlantis, but an Atlantis very unlike the one he knew today. This Atlantis hadn't been thousands of years old; she'd been new. Brand new and brimming with energy that just waited to be unleashed. It had felt like such a rush; a power, vibrating through him, filling his very being.

It had felt like home.

Much more like home than setting foot into the city for the very first time. It had felt like he belonged; as if he knew with absolute certainty that this was exactly where he was meant to be. Safe. Home. Protected.

John rubbed his eyes tiredly and wondered if the medication was possibly causing hallucinations. Maybe the electric current had fried his brain cells after all and now the mix of the medication and the tiredness he felt, combined with having been seriously zapped …

He should try to go to sleep again, John decided. He closed his eyes and consciously relaxed, taking deep breaths. Letting the faint hum of the city, the way it felt alive and soothing around him, lull him to sleep. _Don't worry about a thing, Tural, I'm sure Janus will figure it out__,_ the voice of a woman whispered, but this time John didn't have the strength to open his eyes again. He let himself be dragged under and sleep claimed him, drowning out all thought.

_John was walking through the corridors of Atlantis. He knew it was Atlantis__ as__ the structure was unmistakable. The people he me__t,__ though, he didn't know. Strange people, people he'd never seen in his life__, b__ustling through the corridors like they belonged there._

_He tried to stop, he did, but he couldn't__. I__t felt like he was just a watcher in his own body, along for the ride. "Tural!" Stopping against his will and turning around he saw Chaya approaching. John wanted to groan. This had to be a dream__. D__rug__-i__nduced as well. And naturally he dreamed about Chaya. Great, just great._

"_Chaya," he found himself saying, "what do you want?" He was surprised at how antagonistic he sounded. "I told you I'm not interested, __so __why do you insist on following me?"_

_She looked unfazed, __smiling__ at him in a way that he knew was supposed to be seductive. "We are to be engaged, Tural. Why can you not accept that? You have been promised to me since we were little and I will not allow you to negate an agreement made by our fathers."_

_For a moment everything around him went black, then the picture returned and John realized he must have been closing his eyes. "No," he said, and John could hear the finality in it. It was weird to hear himself talk like that. Weird, but also somehow cool. "I won't marry you. There was no contract, and I'm not obliged to do anything. Now, if you will excuse me, I have __some place__ to be. Namely somewher__e__ where you aren't." With tha__t, __he turned away and started walking again._

"_Do not turn your back on me like that, Tural," Chaya said from behind, her calm veneer cracking. "You _will_ be mine someday, have no doubt about that."_

_John kept going in this strange body – Tural, he guessed – and only waved back at her dismissively._

The transition between sleeping and waking was so abrupt that for a moment John couldn't tell where he was. Then the familiar ceiling swam into focus above him and the electrocution incident returned to his mind with force. He located the call button and pushed it, a slight panic starting to build. That sculpture had done something to him. And John didn't like it one bit.

oooooOooooo

Sam Carter rubbed her aching neck tiredly. Why couldn't they get a rest for a while? Dr. Beckett had asked her to come to the infirmary to speak about the colonel. He was experiencing strange symptoms after the not-quite sculpture had zapped him. Sam just hoped he hadn't been permanently damaged by … whatever the sculpture had done.

Forcing herself to stay focused, Sam turned her attention back to Carson, who was still thoughtfully studying the scans he'd made of John's head.

"That is very unusual, Colonel," Carson said, addressing both of them at the same time, but looking at Sam. "It seems that what he experienced wasn't a hallucination or a dream, but in fact, a memory. The unusual thing about it is that it appears to be his _own_ memory, even though that isn't quite possible. After all, Colonel Sheppard isn't really ten-thousand years old. He shouldn't be _able_to remember Atlantis as she was back then. Still, there is no indication of the memory being manipulated in any way."

"You say that you remembered Atlantis, but what appears to be the past version of it, John?" Sam asked, wanting to confirm what she'd already been told. John had thought he'd hallucinated from the drugs Carson had given him, dreaming of the early days of Atlantis. But now Carson insisted that John had _remembered_ something and that the memories appeared to be genuine. Sam needed to know how John felt about the whole situation. "What did it feel like?" Sam asked him, taking in his drawn and tired look.

"It was weird," John said. He was shifting in his bed uncomfortably and was rubbing his bandaged right hand, ignoring Carson's disapproving frown as he did so. "It was as if I was stuck in this Tural guy's body. I didn't have any control over my actions. I guess I was reliving his memory," John said and an annoyed look flittered over his face before he continued. "Chaya was there. They had an argument; something about them getting engaged. I … ah, I don't think he was really happy about that. He didn't want to marry her, but she was convinced he'd be hers one day. I'm pretty sure he was an Ancient. I guess when that statue zapped me, I got his memories somehow," John said, changing from rubbing his hand to massaging his temples carefully.

Sam sighed. She could still remember the pain and the tears that had pooled in Cam's eyes as he fought with the memories of murdering a woman; memories that hadn't been his own, that had been implanted into his mind, torturing him. She could still see Cam how he fought and struggled over and over again through the memories of strangling a woman with his own hands, just so the real murderer could be found. And it had been all for nothing in the end.

Now there was John who had memories that weren't his own and Sam just prayed he wouldn't be hurt by them, wouldn't have to suffer because of them as well. She liked John, he was a good guy, a friend, and Sam just hoped that Carson would be able to fix this, to make it right.

Sam turned to Carson again, looking at him searchingly, "Carson, can you get them out of him? Can you separate the memories that are not his own? You say they _appear_ to be genuine, but we all know, they're not. Can't be, of course. So, is there a way to get them out of John without hurting him?"

"Yeah, Doc, can you get them out? 'Cause I'm feeling rather uncomfortable here and the thought of being engaged to Chaya, even though it's not _me_ me, is … disturbing," John said, cringing obviously at the mental image. "And I'd rather not think of her any more than absolutely necessary," he added.

Shaking his head sadly, Carson said, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Not until Rodney and Radek find out what exactly the sculpture has done to you. I need to know how it happened to be able to reverse it. Right now, it's impossible to separate the new memories from the truly genuine ones. I'm sorry, but you will have to live with them until I can find a safe way to get the new memories out without taking away any of your own ones, or hurting you. I can put you on medication to help you sleep, if you need me to. That's all I can do for now I fear." Carson sounded truly sorry and more worried than Sam liked.

As she watched, John shook his head, saying, "No, I'm fine. I'm sure I'll survive a few days with this Tural guy's memories in my head. Rodney will figure it out."

Suppressing a sigh and forcing a smile, Sam replied, "I'm sure he will. Good night, John." She turned and left the infirmary, leaving John in Carson's capable hands.

oooooOooooo

It had been a week. A week of waking up disoriented, of stopping in the middle of a corridor, of zoning out in a meeting. Seven whole days of snatches of another life flashing in front of John's eyes with no idea of how to stop them. Rodney kept throwing him glances that were part helpless, part apologetic as he kept John close while he took the sculpture apart bit by bit.

John couldn't stand it anymore.

He knew where Tural had worked now, whom he spent his time with, and what he liked to eat for breakfast. He knew where Tural's favourite spot in Atlantis was, what he did when he felt helpless. John had been witness to fierce fights against the Wraith, the hopelessness the Ancients had felt when their enemy kept coming back, the fear at the gruesome death and the desperation with which a lot of them ascended because the thought of being _eaten_ like they were some kind of animal was just too much.

If John hadn't already thought the Ancients were idiots on so many levels, he'd have known for sure right now. Most of them weren't just idiots, they were assholes as well. He'd tried to tell Rodney, Carter and the others, but not everybody's view of the people who had built not only the Stargate, but also the city they were living in, was as spoiled as John's. Nobody else had their own internal cinema that highlighted every slow decision, every denial for help for what were considered 'lesser' life forms. John had front row seats to a lot of them up to a point where he started to wonder if Tural was influential or something.

"John?"

He nearly fell off his chair at Carter's voice. The way she was looking at him was unsettling, like he was lost somehow, like she knew something he didn't. He _hated_ it when she looked like that. "Sam?" he asked right back.

She put down her tray opposite him and the look she threw him made John profoundly uncomfortable. "How are you doing?"

"Great," John answered, keeping the 'it's driving me crazy' and 'make it stop, please' inside. "It's an interesting point of view, really. I always wanted to know how the Ancients lived when they weren't busy fucking everything up for everybody else." At least he had made Carter smile. "How far is Rodney with figuring out how to reverse this?"

"Last time I radioed him he just snapped at me that he's busy and to wait for the senior staff meeting," Carter said with a grimace. "I'm sure he'll tell us himself in half an hour."

John nodded, even though Carter's confident words didn't soothe him at all. After he'd taken the sculpture apart, Rodney hadn't wanted John around anymore. Probably because the easy solution they'd all been hoping for just hadn't materialized. The first five times Rodney had kicked John out of his lab for hovering and "disturbing my circles" John had taken to doing paperwork. Or trying to. It wasn't easy to focus if at any point he could end up walking the lively hallways of a city that was shiny and new, meeting people who had long ascended or died. It was damn disturbing actually.

They both dumped their trays together and silently walked to the conference room. John knew Carter wanted to ask questions about the Ancients, wanted to know how Atlantis had been back then. If he hadn't hated the whole thing so much he'd have indulged her nosy questions about the Ancient tech, but as it was, no-one bothered to ask him anymore. He'd put a stop to that very early. Once they had joined Carson at the conference table, Rodney and Radek came bustling in, both with grim expressions on their faces.

John felt the bottom of his stomach fall out; it was worse than a crash landing in a helicopter. Rodney didn't look that way when he had made a discovery, he didn't frown and his lips weren't pressed together in a thin line like that, if he had figured something out. _Crap_, John thought.

"It wasn't the sculpture," Rodney started to say before he had even sat down his laptop. "Maybe it initiated the memories when it shocked John, but it certainly didn't _give_ him the memories."

Radek took over smoothly as Rodney sank into a chair and took a deep drink from his coffee. "Other device might have given memories. Could have been anything."

Rodney put down his cup a little too forcefully. At least there was barely anything left and it didn't spill. "He's touched a few hundred devices over the years and we still don't know what all of them did. Some just blinked a bit and then shut down and while we _thought_ they were broken they might not have been. Right now we just don't know how John got the memories."

That sucked. So much. "You're saying I'm stuck with these memories popping up all the time?" He almost didn't ask the question for fear of the answer. However, John was a lot of things, but he wasn't a coward.

"Aye," Carson answered before Rodney could even open his mouth. "I'm afraid so. We can't remove the memories because they don't show up as foreign."

"Yes, yes, we all know that already, Carson, no need to repeat it at every opportunity you get," he said, then he turned his gaze on John for the first time since he had entered the room. It was very unsettling to be the focus of Rodney's complete attention, of all that brilliance. "Radek and I've been thinking about something else though. The main problem is that you can't do anything without being overwhelmed by a memory coming online, so to say, yes?"

John nodded hesitantly, not sure he would like what Rodney was going to say, but damn sure it might be better than his current position.

"Well, we now know that while the electroshock started the process, it's a certain neurotransmitter that activates the memories bit by bit. Cason agrees that with an injection of an artificial version of this neurotransmitter in the right amount, we could bring all the memories online at once and you'll stop …" he waved his hand in John's general direction "… zoning out in the corridors." It all came out in one breath and Rodney looked like he'd drawn the short straw on giving John the news. "Which would mean you could go off world again," he added hurriedly.

"But I'd still have all of Tural's memories?" he asked, not wanting them. John had his own nightmares, his own ghosts that haunted him. He didn't need Tural's as well.

Carson cleared his throat, looking even more nervous than Rodney. "Yes."

"And they'd be like what? Like my own memories?"

"They'd be as real, yes," Rodney said and there was a glimmer of greed in his eyes that made John want to get up and punch him.

Instead John folded his hands on the table top and leaned back a little. "That plan sucks," he said calmly. "I don't _want_ that guy stuck in my head. He had a seriously fucked up life and I don't want his memories any more than I want to remember being fed on by a Wraith."

"Unless it stabilizes there is no way you can be cleared for active duty, though," Carter said seriously.

Right at that moment John hated them all. Hated the way he knew they all were excited to find out what Tural knew about Ancient tech. Hated the way there were questions in all their eyes, even Carson's. And he wished he had never touched that fucking sculpture in the first place. He wished he'd never even looked at that … thing. John didn't know how he could have thought that ugly piece of metal was actually beautiful. That piece of shit was ruining his life. "How about we try something else first?"

"Like what?" Rodney asked, his voice sharp.

There had to be another way aside from activating all the memories. There just had to. Maybe another Ancient device? Or one of their allies? Somebody. There was enough stuff scattered around in this galaxy to at least make it a possibility.

_The Stargate engaged in front of him. Beautiful as ever. Tural/John felt excited beyond anything in his life. It'd be his very first journey through the gate with the purpose of seeding life on a planet they had cultivated for the last decade._

"_Tural!"_

_He closed his eyes for a moment at the voice. Chaya. Of course she had to come and see him off or some such nonsense. Like he cared. Instead of answering her call he went through the gate at his Commander's signal._

"Chaya," John said and he could have kicked himself for not thinking about it sooner. She was the only Ancient they knew about, the only one who was accessible. "We should talk to her. Maybe she can help. I'm not supposed to have these memories after all, and the Ancients might see them as interference and remove them from me." Even as he said it he tensed in anticipation of meeting Chaya again. The thought was anything but pleasurable. _Damn it,_ John thought helplessly. Already Tural's memories had changed his perception. He'd liked Chaya, enough to take her out, enough to kiss her. If things had been different, there could have been more between them. Maybe. She'd been perfect. Beautiful, fun, kind. "It's worth a try, isn't it?"

Rodney had started frowning at the mention of Chaya, but he just nodded, not saying anything at all. Grateful for small mercies, John accepted that as the best he could get.

"You have a go on that, but take Major Lorne with you," Carter decided. "If that doesn't work we can still come up with something else."

And just like that SGA-1 was heading back to Proculus with another 'gate team to cover them and Evan to take lead while John was having lapses in memory.

oooooOooooo

"John," Chaya greeted him happily as she glided down the stone steps to meet him. The others had been forced to wait in another courtyard. He wished his team could be here, but the high priest had told him that she wanted to see just him.

Without actually wanting to, he recoiled from her, Tural's distaste bleeding through as if it was his own. "Chaya," he said, his voice as neutral as he could make it, "it's good to see you again."

She smiled and stopped, too close to him. "Yes, it is good to see you as well. I was hoping you would visit again sooner. What brings you here?"

For a moment John wished that Rodney was there, even though he had ordered Rodney to 'shut up and don't say anything until we're back in Atlantis'. It'd have been so easy to just look at him and let him do all the talking – because when did Rodney ever follow orders or shut up? He'd at least be a familiar presence in his back. "I have a little problem," John hedged instead, wishing this would be easier as his eyes slid away from her. He didn't even want to look at her. "Somehow I happened to get the memories of a guy called Tural and they're starting to seriously disrupt my life. I was hoping you could help me get rid of them."

At a startled gasp from Chaya, John looked at her again. She had tensed but her face was practically glowing with happiness. "These are good news, Tural, very good news," she chirped.

"I'm _not_ Tural," John hissed, forgetting that he wanted help from Chaya. "I'm John Sheppard, and I want my fucking life back."

Chaya's smile just grew as she looked him up and down like he was for sale. "What are we but our memories?" she asked, stepping even closer. "I told you that you would be mine one day, and this day is now. Stay with me, Tural, be my mate, as we were supposed to be. As our parents ordained it. My people would offer the same courtesies to you as they do to me. We can protect them for the rest of eternity, together, once you leave your human life behind you and ascend."

Feeling physically ill, John couldn't do anything but stare at her. She couldn't mean that for real, could she? Only when she reached out and touched his arm did he shake off the feeling of being frozen and took a few steps back, out of her reach. "You're crazy," he said, backing up again as she moved closer. "I'm not him just because I have his memories."

"Oh, but you will be."

That sounded so much like a threat that John wished he hadn't left Atlantis unarmed. Carson had asked him to; apparently being caught up in memories wasn't conductive to not shooting things. He'd very much like to shoot Chaya right now, even though Tural had never felt violent towards her. Ha. He so wasn't Tural. Take that, Chaya.

"I have waited a long time for this day, Tural. The fact that you did feel attracted to me, that you wanted to be with me and help me when you didn't know yet who you truly are, just serves to prove my theory. We are meant to be. It is only due to your stubbornness that we were not married like our parents wanted us to be, the last time," she smiled one of her creepy smiles and John could see something akin to greed in her eyes. This woman was seriously disturbed.

"I repeat, I am _not him_, just because I have his memories," John snapped, stepping away from her, the urge to bring distance between the two of them overwhelming. "I have no idea what you did to piss him off, but that guy seriously didn't like you. And now, _I_ am starting to seriously not like you, either. So if you are interested in staying in friendly contact, you better get this guy's memories out of my head 'cause right now, they're not helping in that regard. I'm feeling positively hostile against you and you can't like that," John forced himself to smile at her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He felt off balance and vulnerable and he was afraid he'd one of those memory flashes anytime now, leaving him completely exposed to whatever Chaya had in mind.

"I admit, I liked your John Sheppard persona better, Tural," Chaya said with a frown, moving into John's personal space again. "But I am not interested in taking away what is rightfully yours again. Stay with me, Tural. I promise you, you will have a good life with me." She reached for him, rubbing his shoulder appreciatively and John wanted nothing more but to run. But he forced himself to stay still and listen. Something very weird was going on here.

"We can be together. You should be with your own race, not forced to watch over this small group of descendants, making sure they don't set the city on fire and get hurt. _You_ are not being punished, Tural. You are not the one chained to a planet doomed to play babysitter and die of boredom. You are not confined to the city. You can choose to be with me. With the right … incentive … you could soar. I'm sure along with your memories, your powers will be back one day, my love. And then nothing will be able to stop us."

"You're seriously disturbed, lady," John spat angrily. "Getting this guy's memories doesn't make me an Ancient, or give me any powers. I'm _human_, born and raised on Earth. I was hurt and almost died more times I want to remember and I've got the scars to prove it. So I'd appreciate if you didn't run around calling me by the name of a guy who's long dead or ascended." John glared at her before turning around and walking away. "I'm done with you," he called over his shoulder.

Making his way swiftly back to his team, John noticed that everyone's attention was on him when he arrived in the courtyard. Without slowing his stride, John snapped, "We're leaving. This was a complete waste of time." He didn't look at anyone as he walked past his team in the direction of the 'jumper.

"You're making a mistake, Tural," Chaya's voice came from behind him and John whirled around, glaring at her.

John could see Rodney's looking back and forth between the two of them before he asked, "Did she just call you 'Tural'?" in that alarmed, strained voice he got whenever they were in serious trouble.

"I said we're leaving," John said by way of answer, adding a "she's completely nuts" for good measure. Still, he was surprised when Rodney followed him wordlessly.

oooooOooooo

"Just _do it_." If Carson didn't stop fussing right now, John would be forced to do something drastic. What Rodney jokingly called "Sentinel moments" had started to become more frequent once they had left Proculus, as if meeting Chaya had been some kind of catalyst.

They had put him in a private room and restrained him. He didn't like it one bit, but Carson said it was very possible he could hurt himself as the memories were activated. John had almost laughed at that, but everybody had been watching him with such worried expressions and he'd swallowed it down. They didn't need to know how close to hysterics he was. How afraid he was. How much what Chaya had said scared him.

Those nightmares, they weren't just Tural's nightmares.

Because John was sure that Chaya had said the truth, at least on that account. There was a whole ton he _felt_ she had left out. Important things. _You are not being punished, Tural_, she'd said. But if he wasn't being punished, then what was this? As far as John knew that was the _only_ reason why he was human if he _really_ was an Ancient after all. But was he? Was he really? Or was Chaya more unhinged than he'd thought?

John didn't know what to believe. If these memories were fake and he'd picked them up from one of the Ancient devices he'd touched over the past five years, then he might never get rid of them again. He'd have a long ascended guy inside his head. If he actually _was_ Tural, then he was a descended Ancient. And John truly didn't know what scared him more.

"You sure, lad?" Carson asked, his eyes full of misery. He genuinely didn't want to do this.

John closed his eyes and sighed. "Yes, go on," he said. This was his only chance of getting back into the field quickly. He would be damned if either of the two possibilities would keep him from doing his job even longer than they already had.

The needle didn't hurt a lot when it slipped into his arm and then ... then John went crazy.

"_Tural! Wait up for me!" a man called out to him from behind. But as soon as John turned around his surroundings changed to the conference room. And as his eyes ran down the line of the people sitting there he recognized every one of them. The voices mingled together as the images in front of his eyes flickered at an alarming rate._

_A conversation rose above the din of voices in John's head until he couldn't help but listen. "You can't be serious__. T__he Wraith are going to destroy us if we stay here," a woman __said__. Not Chaya, though, and for that John was grateful. _

"_So let them! They are our responsibility. We_ made _them. Should we not stand up to protect them and the life we created in this galaxy? Should we just run away like scared children?" John/Tural said, feeling disgusted by what the others wanted to do._

"_You truly believe we should sacrifice ourselves, our ascension, to a few primitive races that the council insisted we make? Your stupid pride will be our downfall!"_

_The cacophony of voices and pictures in his head intensified until it all slipped away into the balm of darkness._

oooooOooooo

John woke to the faint murmur and bustle that was the Atlantis infirmary. No, not John. Tural. He was Tural. Well, _had been_ anyway, since his memories as John Sheppard were as real as the ones he had from his life as Tural.

His life as Tural.

His first life.

Ten-thousand years ago. Before he was forced to leave Atlantis behind. Before he was forced to abandon everything he cared for, everything that mattered to him. Before they left all the people they had created, all the life-forms they had so much hope for, to die at the hand of the Wraith.

Like the bunch of egoistical cowards John had always thought the Ancients to be. Now he had proof. His memories were pretty clear on that point.

Flexing his hands carefully, John was amazed how different and yet similar this body was to his former one. His looks were a little off – after a few thousand years of not being able to look into a mirror, you kinda forgot how you really had looked like – but still similar enough to be easily recognized.

What unsettled John more was the raw power he remembered having at his disposal. He knew he had been sent back in a human form for a reason, but he also knew that his physique had to be special if he was dealing with his – Tural's – memories as well. So theoretically, he should have at least some of his powers, shouldn't he?

Not that he was too keen on … John's thoughts came to a halt. When had he accepted so readily that he actually _was_ Tural and that all of this wasn't just a case of transferred memories? Sure, he remembered seeing himself in the mirror, as Tural. He remembered how he had been a pilot even back then, and how the … gateships … 'jumpers … had been one of his favourite 'toys'.

No, there was no doubt in John's mind that he had been the Ancient called Tural. Even Chaya had said so and she after all had vested interest in his identity.

Knowing that there was little he could, little he was still able and allowed to do; John suddenly felt tired. Tired and old. Sad. It was frustrating to be reminded of his limits once more when all he wanted to do was help and make up for the mistakes they'd made back then. That was his purpose, it was his task.

His memories were back. _All_ of his memories. Even the ones from the day he had decided to go back to Earth as a human newborn child.

Tural's own parents had called him foolish to give up ascension for a bunch of stupid, primitive humans who were no longer of their concern. They had survived as long as they did and would go on to survive on their own somehow, so why bother.

Only a few of Tural's friends, like Leeana and Oniph had supported his decision. Even though Leeana had been concerned. _"Are you sure that is what you want, Tural? We'll do what we ca_n,_ but you may not be able to return to Atlantis for a long time to come and you will live as a human until then. Are you certain you want to take that risk?"_

But John had been certain. The people of Pegasus were _his_ responsibility. _Their_ responsibility, to be precise. But his peers had made it clear that they wouldn't do anything but look on as their descendants and the people they had basically created died at the hands of the enemy they had made as well. And that wasn't right. Not for Tural and certainly not for John.

He frowned at the way his own mind kept the two entities apart. It wasn't like he felt schizophrenic, wasn't like he had two people in his head. He was still … him. There was no change in the way he felt about Atlantis, about Earth, about the people he had surrounded himself with. He still felt the fierce loyalty that had led him to sacrifice himself for the better of the expedition more than once. John and Tural? Not so different from each other. Just a different name for the same person, he decided.

John Sheppard. That's who he was. The tension in his body he hadn't even been aware of drained out of John and he took a deep breath. It'd take time to settle; John knew that. But the old memories wouldn't render him helpless anymore, because now they were back where they belonged. And if it hadn't been for that ugly _thing_ Leris had liked to call a sculpture, he'd still be unaware of what he was. He'd have to thank her for that later. Much later. Much, _much_ later.

His fingers curled into a fist as he felt for the thread of power inside of him. Something that had never been missing actually; John just hadn't been able to know it for what it really was. They were there. Well, some of them anyway. They'd really pushed the limits of what was allowable with him. He was so close to ascension he could almost feel it. A small push on his side was all that was needed and he'd be there again. Back in the same, boring, confined existence he'd been in for millennia. Mostly lonely, his hands tied by stupid non-interference rules. Unable to help like he'd always thought his people should. Stupid rules made by stupid people who had never bled for anything in their life. Cowards who had never been at the front lines, who had ascended to the higher plane before the Wraith had developed into the threat they had become. People who had been old before Tural had even been born and who hadn't cared for others before they had advanced beyond the need for a body.

Teer had known. So had Chaya. They had both known what he was, who he was, and had both wanted for him to ascend for them, with them. Anger welled up in John at that. Both of them had to have known about his mission, about what he was supposed to do. It was like a slap in the face, really. His people couldn't care less about the lives that were lost. They didn't care enough about the Ori either. _Let them fend for themselves_, had been what most had said. _The Ori will never come, Earth is safe, do not worry_. God. John felt like throwing up, felt like calling for his brothers and sisters and telling them that they were wrong, oh so wrong. That humankind was too inquisitive, too nosy, too ... _human_ to stay put. He'd always told them that one day their descendants would find a way, would travel the galaxy and they would travel _beyond_ the boundaries of their home and into the arms of the Lantean's greatest enemy – or the Ori. Or both. And hadn't he been right? _Hadn't he been right?_

Hell yes. Even though he really wished he hadn't been. There was nothing he wished more. _Leeana, Oniph, Lissal, Lendri ... we did the right thing, went down the correct path_, he thought, thankful for the course of action he had chosen. Most of the Ancients hadn't cared what they were doing anyway. As long as the rules were obeyed, nobody cared about anything. They'd damn well made sure to obey every single rule in existence for them.

And now? Now John was somewhat outside of the rules.

Free of a lot of the restraints put on him, free to serve his people again and to protect. Like he was supposed to. Tural had been a protector of Atlantis for most of his adult life, just like John had been a part of the Air Force. The others probably hadn't even needed to nudge him that way; Tural had never wanted to be anything else.

He blinked. Suddenly becoming _aware_ of his immediate surroundings for the first time since he'd woken up. Aware that someone was standing beside his bed, talking to him constantly, reassuringly. John blinked again, then turned his head to look at Rodney. Seated in one of the ugly, uncomfortable plastic chairs they had brought from Earth, a laptop balanced precariously on his knees, typing away and muttering about his work.

John blinked again as he felt the memories settling inside of him comfortably. Sharp and clear as they had always been, his own memories of life on Earth going from fuzzy to clean in the space of seconds. Perfect recall. John chuckled. How had they even managed to suppress that? He didn't want to know.

"John?" Rodney had stopped typing and was now looking at him with fear in his impossibly wide, blue eyes.

He reached out to pat Rodney's hand, stopped by the restraints. Frowning, John tugged at them, but his memory finally snapped into place and he remembered the reason for the restraints.

"John?"

Oh. Yes. Rodney was talking to him. His name a wealth of questions that John had always been able to understand. "I'm okay," he said, his voice unnaturally rough. "I guess the memories didn't come easily." That was more than just a guess. John shuddered. If he'd known _before_ what he knew now he'd never have gone through with it. The memories would have come back by themselves once the process had started and it'd have accelerated as his body changed to accommodate them. Forcing the change had most likely been painful and John was glad he couldn't actually recall any of that.

Rodney's face said it all before he started talking. "It was _terrible_. You were screaming and writhing and I thought you were going to die."

"It's alright, I'm fine now," John soothed, sensing the fear that was rolling off of Rodney in large waves. "I can't remember any of it." He hadn't really tried too hard though. "Probably for the best," he said. Rodney didn't need to know that John didn't _want_ to remember anything, that John knew exactly how bad it had to have been. "How long was I out?"

"About ten hours." Rodney closed the laptop and put it onto the bedside table. He looked like hell. "Your eyes were open most of the time, but you didn't seem to recognize anything," the words came out softly, relieved. "You okay?"

John had forgotten how strange it was to feel what other people felt, to almost hear their thoughts whisper inside his head when he didn't concentrate properly on his shielding. Suddenly he felt tired and the gentle up and down of Rodney's near-thoughts put his mind to rest. "I'll be fine," he mumbled, "just fine."

_Looked like you were dying, oh God, don't die, don't die. Need you here. The screams, the screams – no, don't think about that, he said he'll be fine, he'll be–_ And with that, John slipped into sleep.

oooooOooooo

"So?" Carter asked, her eyes shining brightly with curiosity.

"So what?" John asked back. He hadn't even really sat down at the conference table yet, but he'd expected the question. Actually, he was genuinely surprised he hadn't been asked for anything up to now. Sure, Beckett would have kicked them out of the infirmary, but no-one had approached him during the week he'd been on forced leave. Rodney hadn't so much as looked curiously at him. It was downright disconcerting and he'd wondered if Rodney had come down with an illness for a moment until he realized that he was just being considerate.

She leaned forward, her arms folded on the table, looking tense. "What do you remember? What did Tural know about Ancient technology? Did he know anything at all about ZPMs?"

Of course that was what she'd like to know. He could have guessed. "It's all a bit muddled, actually," he lied, composing his face in an expression of puzzlement. "Carson said it was because the memories settled so quickly and that I'll remember a bit here or there."

With a soft, disappointed 'oh' Carter sank back into her chair.

"As far as I can tell, Tural wasn't very good with technology at all. He was a protector of Atlantis, though" John said, gently, carefully. "The last line of defense of a people peaceful to the point of indolence. Actually, he was a lot like me." He couldn't help smiling a little at that. "A soldier, mainly."

Carter frowned, then muttered, "So you've got nothing about recharging ZPMs then?"

John laughed, "Nope. Sorry." Rodney rushed in right then, stopping Carter from asking any more questions that John really didn't want to answer, Ronon and Teyla following more slowly behind the whirlwind that was Rodney McKay. Maybe they'd accept that he didn't know anything and leave him be about it and allow him to be John, just John. At least for a bit longer maybe. Forever if he could. He didn't want to see them turn to him for everything, didn't want to feel their eyes on his back, expecting miracles from him every day. Expect them to save him. He wanted these people to soar, to grow beyond what they were, not diminish them by solving all their problems for them with a snap of his fingers.

"What did you do _this_ time?" Rodney asked, dropping down in the chair beside John.

"Nothing," John defended himself automatically, but grinned in response to the goofy smile on Rodney's face. He watched as his team settled down, sharing smiles with Teyla and Ronon as well. For a moment he searched his memories, trying to remember if he'd ever felt so close to anyone. Back, when he had still been Tural, when he had been ascended, or even before he'd come home, to Atlantis. "So, where are we going tomorrow, Rodney?"

"M59-S28. According to the database there is an outpost there," Rodney said, launching into a lengthy explanation John tuned out.

Nope. He'd never felt like he'd belonged. Not like this. Not like it mattered. Watching Rodney talk animatedly about energy readings with Teyla looking interested and Ronon leaning back, his arms crossed with a 'I really don't care as long as I get to shoot something' expression on his face, John felt a kind of peace he'd never felt before in all his existence.

The End.

**Continue reading by going to the next chapter to read: _Total Recall 2 - ____Love c_hanges everything … and nothing**

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**Cassandra's Author Notes:** I loved writing this story and I think I might have run away with it at one point. But then, Mel didn't seem to mind too much, thankfully. Also, if you can point out the Doctor Who quote I slipped in you'll get a virtual chocolate chip cookie!

**Melinda's Author Notes:** At first I thought we shouldn't do this, _exactly_ because I knew Cass was totally taken with the idea and she _would_ run away with it, far and fast. But then I thought 'oh, wtf, why not?' and just went with the flow. Turns out this was (and still is since we're writing on the next part already) a lot of fun.


	2. Love changes everything … and nothing

**Title:** Love changes everything … and nothing  
**Author:** ca_pierson and darkmoore05**  
Beta: **neevebrody on livejournal**  
Fandom:** Stargate Atlantis  
**Pairing:** McKay/Sheppard**  
Rating:** NC-17  
**Word count: **10.528**  
Warnings: **none**  
Genre:** AU, First Time

**Disclaimer:** Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to us, neither do the characters. This is a work of fannish love and we aren't making any money from it.**  
A/N:** Our thanks go to neevebrody who is the most amazing beta and a real treasure. Because of her, this chapter now is so much better and we're immensely grateful for her help and encouragement. You're awesome, Lady!

**Summary:** It seems that with the new memories, John also re-gained a whole wagonload of problems.

* * *

**Total Recall 2 - Love changes everything ... and nothing**

**by Melinda and Cassandra Pierson**

John was bored.

Bored to tears. There was no other way to describe the way he felt. The planet was boring. The outpost was dead. The technology was useless. And yet he was stuck there for two full days. Two full days he could have spent … well, two days he could have spent doing more paperwork. So maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that they had gone on this mission.

With Teyla and Ronon building the camp and doing rounds, John was stuck keeping Rodney company. Rodney, who was happily crawling under consoles and plugging in his notebook, downloading data and just generally crowing over their useless find.

Of course, to Rodney, none of it was useless. Even the off-hand notes about farming would be interesting to some of the scientists back on Atlantis. It was wonderful how much these people throve on knowledge, how much they coveted it. Such a difference to the jaded outlook of John's peers.

John loved it.

"We can probably scavenge a lot of the materials we'll need to do the repairs and maintenance we've been putting off so long," Rodney was saying, his hands moving gently over a console, caressing it like it was a living thing. "Especially the crystals. Radek and I are trying to figure out how the Ancients manufactured them, but we've got no idea where to start."

It had taken John's ancestors centuries to develop the perfect crystal growth and while John didn't doubt Rodney's genius, he didn't think he or anyone on Atlantis would figure it out in their lifetimes. That thought saddened John and he considered giving Rodney a little hint. Or more than a hint. John knew he shouldn't help – even in the SGC it was mandatory to not push the natural evolution of a race ahead – but Rodney and all the other scientists deserved to know. They were so eager, were trying so hard and John itched to … reward that curiosity. Wanted to give them something they'd enjoy, something that would motivate them to keep going.

Thinking about it for a second, John decided he was outside the rules anyway; why not use that to his advantage? "Maybe they were grown," he said, making sure it sounded like he'd said the first thing that came to mind. Like it was something he'd said just for the sake of hearing himself talk. Unqualified drivel. And Rodney fell for it.

"Grown?" Rodney asked, frowning at John like he'd said something dirty.

John ignored Rodney's scandalized expression and shrugged, leaning against the wall behind him. It was hard not to laugh, but he tried to appear nonchalant as he nudged Rodney's thoughts into the right direction. "Yeah, you know, like in those 'grow your own crystals' kits. Water, the right kind of minerals and they just grow. I had one when I was a kid." Actually, he'd had a whole lab full of water baths, growing crystals for Atlantis. It had been a homework project, a rather enjoyable one at that.

A snort was his answer. "Yeah. Right. I can already see us all sitting around an aquarium, watching control crystals grow." Rodney's statement held far more sarcasm than John would have deemed necessary.

It was amusing. But John had no doubt what he'd said would stay with Rodney, would grow and culminate in one of Rodney's wonderful jumps of logic, where everything just started to fit together so perfectly. "Yeah well," John drawled and grinned, "that'd probably be too easy. It was a fun idea though." He pushed off the wall, his hands loosely resting on the P-90 that dangled from his tac vest and moved to lean against the console Rodney was currently feeling up.

"Don't touch anything," Rodney snapped, a little wild around the eyes, and shoved him away. "You've already been zapped by a fucking sculpture and you still can't manage to keep your ATA gene … body to yourself." The accusation was delivered in a worried huff and John felt touched by Rodney's concern.

_Oh, what the hell. _Why wait for Rodney to figure it out when telling him surely would put a big smile on his face? One of those John loved best. So why not give that to Rodney? John wanted to tell him, wanted to make Rodney smile like that. And it wasn't like it mattered much any more now, anyway. John had bent the rules already. All he had to do was dare. To go ahead and outright say it. "Actually, it'd be more like a vat." John purposefully ignored being shoved and leaned against the console again, enjoying the sigh it elicited. He wanted to give something to Rodney. Something precious. "A big vat. I had one like those, it was a homework project. Fun and useful. The perfect ones went to good use as well once the engineers …" he broke off there, on purpose, furrowing his brow in puzzlement while watching Rodney go bug-eyed, with purely inward glee.

"Engineers?" Rodney asked, in an awed tone of voice, then visibly tried to not get agitated over that piece of information. After a deep breath, he asked with forced calm, "Where were you at the time?"

John frowned at that. God, it was fun to be manipulative. It was great to be able to give them this, even if it was just a little bit. Everything helped. And John wanted nothing more than to have Atlantis fully functioning, working like she was supposed to. Rodney, Radek, Miko, Simpson … all the scientists were important for that. "Huh," he said, rubbing his chin, like he was deep in thought. "You know … I don't know … I think I was in one of the labs actually. Weird."

The sound Rodney made worried John a little. There were thousands of questions dancing in Rodney's eyes, but he didn't ask any of them. "Rodney?" John said, genuinely frowning now. "Did Sam order you not to ask me any questions?" Sam was the only one Rodney respected – and feared – enough to accept orders from, aside from John.

"She might have said something about not bothering you with annoying questions about your unwanted Ancient memories," Rodney muttered, his eyes on the console and his hands busy with the laptop he'd connected to the crystals.

For some reason that made John very angry. So very angry that Sam had dared to shackle Rodney like that. Yes, he had hated the questions, had been curt to the point of rudeness with Sam more often than not. And yes he had stopped every scientist who had approached him with a glare, but John had _never_ done that to Rodney. He wouldn't have, because Rodney … Rodney was different. Rodney was John's friend, part of his family. "You can ask," John said gently, wishing Rodney hadn't fallen so quiet again, like a chastised child. "If I can, I'll answer." He didn't realize he really meant it until he said it out loud. For Rodney, he'd cross boundaries that were only wobbly in his current state of being anyway. And wasn't that an odd thought? Teyla and Ronon were family just as much, yet he wouldn't cross those same limits for them. Not like he would for Rodney.

"Really?" Rodney asked, looking at him again, his whole face aglow with happiness.

Funny, how that expression of Rodney's could make John feel like … like he was flying without an aircraft. "Really," he reinforced gently, trying not to show how unaccountably happy he was because he'd made Rodney smile like that.

"So what do you remember?" The console and the notebook were forgotten and Rodney looked at John like he was a fully charged ZPM.

John knew that look only too well. He'd gotten it before … when he'd sat in the chair in Antarctica, when he'd stepped through the 'gate and Atlantis had flared to life with every one of his steps. It made him feel wanted, made him feel precious. And warm. "Not much," he said evasively. John hadn't minded lying to Sam, but he found that he minded lying to Rodney. For a brief moment, he was tempted to take it back and tell Rodney everything. "It's like memories from way back, when I was a kid. Sometimes, when I see, hear or smell something I remember a little," John continued and the words felt like ash in his mouth.

"Huh." Rodney's eyes were sparkling with what John thought was both glee and excitement. "But you remembered the crystals."

"Yeah, I did." And Rodney … Rodney just smiled. John swallowed and pushed off the console, then started to pace around the room. He had to get away from Rodney and that smile, had to get some distance between them before he reached out and did something unforgivable. "So how are you doing on that data?" he asked, just to get Rodney back to work, to distract himself from the urge to grab Rodney's shoulders and pull him close. He let Rodney's voice wash over him, calming him. _This can't be happening, not now,_ John thought, willing his body to obey his mind. He'd always enjoyed being with Rodney, had always basked in his honesty, his obvious generosity. There had been a pull to him before … Chaya_._ He was going to kill her. Slowly. Feed her energy to the bottomless pit of a black hole and watch as she was pulled apart by it for the rest of eternity. The bitch. She'd … she'd done something to him.

Casting his mind back to the pertinent memories John relieved them in the space of a millisecond, recognizing the signs he hadn't spotted while he'd been human.

"That bitch," he hissed viciously. She'd manipulated him … containing his romantic feelings for anybody else in a little partition of his mind, focusing him entirely on her.

"What?" Rodney asked confused. "Who?"

John fought for control over his feelings and won – barely. "Nothing, I was just … reminded of something that happened back then. It's not important." Yes it was important. She'd played with his mind while he had been helpless. Knowing exactly what she was doing, she had tried to turn him from the path he'd chosen when he'd descended. He was going to kill her.

Oh God.

It all made so much sense all of a sudden. The way Chaya had hated Rodney on sight, the way Rodneyhad hated her on sight. The tug-of-war going on between the two with Rodney so hurt when John had … how was he ever going to fix that? How could he fix it? Not like he could start anything with Rodney now, not when John knew he was holding back so much information.

"You sure?" Rodney asked, sounding somewhat at a loss. For all his inability to navigate social interactions, he'd picked this time to get somewhat sensible to John's moods. Great. "It's just that you don't normally start cursing out of the blue."

With a lot of effort, John forced a smile and looked at Rodney. "Yeah, I'm sure. It's just intense sometimes. And the smell in here reminded me of something …" He hoped Rodney would leave it at that.

Thankfully, Rodney gave him only a skeptical glance before he turned back to the notebook and started typing at his usual furious rate.

Watching Rodney's hands move over the keys was like a revelation. John had been so preoccupied by his returning memories that he hadn't noticed how lonely he was. It had been three years since Chaya and he'd never even felt any sexual need. Not even a longing for touch. And he'd never denied himself a friendly touch before. He hadn't thought it had been abnormal at all either.

For a moment everything turned black in front of John's eyes as intense rage washed over him. She'd played with him. She'd done unspeakable things to him. She'd interfered with an important mission. Had jeopardized everything he'd been working for. Just because she wanted him. Because he'd always ignored her instead of doing something about her. That stopped now. Chaya would never get another chance to hurt him. Never.

She wouldn't get another shot at hurting Rodney either, he swore fiercely. His eyes were drawn to Rodney's hands again, wishing they weren't running over the console but over John's body instead. No. No no no no. He wasn't doing this. With a frown he closed his eyes, thinking of snowstorms. . Wraith. Iratus bugs. Then he took a deep breath and went to look over Rodney's shoulder at the display of the notebook. Maybe the data would take his mind off the whole thing.

There was nothing new for him there, just some babbling about farming. John sighed; he had been right, this was so boring. Suddenly he became aware of how close to Rodney he was … close enough to smell him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. It was exhilarating and he wanted more. Wanted to bend down that little bit more and lick the exposed skin of Rodney's neck, wanted to bite the same spot and kiss it better and…

"For the love of … Colonel, could you please stop hovering? I can't work with you looking over my shoulder like that," Rodney snapped, his voice startling John out of whatever haze he'd been in.

Jerking back John muttered 'sorry' and went to the farthest wall, leaning against it, struggling to get the shaking of his hands under control. "I'll just stay over here then," he called out to Rodney. He couldn't believe he'd lost it like that. _What's wrong with me?_ he wondered. Yes, he'd always felt a strong attraction between them, but he'd never been so close to doing something stupid like that. He'd nearly acted on an impulse and he didn't understand why. He'd never acted on an impulse. Not as John and certainly not back when he was Tural.

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney said, waving one hand at him dismissively, "you do that."

John had always held himself apart from the people around him – just that little bit. It was typical for his people, this aloofness and it had never felt wrong or forced, but with Chaya's interference he felt positively starved for touch. For contact. Skin on skin. With a start he realized he hadn't even touched anyone apart from pulling them to safety in the last three years. Unless he'd been ambushed, or from sheer relief and adrenaline. Teer, Mara, Larrin. Three years. Three people. He ached to be touched.

By Rodney.

The next two days suddenly seemed longer than he had previously thought they'd be. A lot longer.

OooO0OooO

Balling his hand into a tight fist, John could feel energy tingling along his skin. _Uh oh. Not good._ Even back in his time as Tural, his powers had been influenced by his emotions, and in a mostly human body it now seemed to be even worse. That and Chaya's manipulations were causing problems. Serious problems.

Problems he wouldn't have if she hadn't bound his emotions, suppressing them. Now that they were all back with a rush, John had a hard time reigning them in. This was all such a mess.

On top of keeping his urge in check to just touch and caress, kiss and lick every available inch of Rodney's skin, John would now have to be careful to not set one of Rodney's sensitive scanners off, creating a 'power source' he couldn't quite explain. Great. Just great.

Taking a deep breath, John tried to get a grip on his emotions. They were going to head back to Atlantis in just under three hours and until now he had managed to not overstep any boundaries. Sure, John was more skin-hungry, more touch starved than he could remember ever having been. But he was doing fine in the controlling his urges department. Really.

As long as he stayed far away from Rodney, John was fine. He could resist temptation with a lot of distance between them. The only problem with that was Rodney's increased suspicion that something was wrong. Confusion and annoyance were slowly turning into hurt over John's presumed as well as real avoidance of Rodney. Right now Rodney was still fiddling around with one of the consoles and John was – once again – at the other side of the room. As far away from Rodney as possible. But the little hurt glances his way weren't lost on John and he ached to explain, to make it better, but how could he possibly do that without losing his grip on himself?

Ronon and Teyla were packing up the rest of the camp and were still doing rounds, even though nothing on this planet indicated any threat. They'd preferred to stay outside of the outpost, only checking in a couple of times during the day in person, John really didn't blame them. By now John was radioing them every thirty minutes, but that was the only distraction from watching Rodney's fingers fly over his laptop or the Ancient consoles.

Heat coiled in John's belly as he imagined those fingers ghosting over his skin and what it would be like to be at the focus of that kind of attention. It had to be incredible. Rodney was doing everything with such fervent enthusiasm and such intense dedication that John was sure being in bed with him, having sex with him, had to be better than even flying.

Deep in thought, John didn't pay much attention to what exactly Rodney was doing. He couldn't see much from his place at the other side of the room anyway. A startled "huh?" followed by an excited "oh, that's interesting" made every one of John's alarm bells ring, though.

"Rodney?" John asked, alarmed. He pushed away from the wall to walk over to where Rodney was standing, looking avidly at the console and his laptop in alternation. He strained all his senses, but couldn't feel anything off, leaving him with no idea as to what Rodney thought was so interesting. There were no power fluctuations, nothing that made him want to grab Rodney and run as fast as he could. "What did you find?"

"Something you should like. Weapons schematics," Rodney, answered reaching for the console again.

"Rodney, don't!" John yelled, a bad feeling in his gut, but it was already too late. A red arch of light, not unlike the one Rodney had encountered with the ascension machine shot out of the console in front of him and engulfed Rodney's body. A moment later he slid from the chair – unconscious. Instantly, John grabbed for him, but wasn't fast enough to catch him completely. At least he managed to make sure Rodney didn't hit his head when he ended up on the floor. "What the …" He left Rodney lying there and looked at the information scrolling over the console in neat columns of Ancient. _Oh fuck,_ was his first thought. "No, no, no," he muttered, "you won't." He wondered briefly if his command codes would still work after all this time, but he punched them in anyway. The self-defense program had activated as Rodney had started copying the military data, naturally. How else could it be?

"_Is everything well, John?" _

He took the time to open a channel only because he didn't want Teyla and Ronon to get too close. "We have a problem, Teyla. Stay by the jumper and don't try to approach. Something we did activated the self-defense mechanisms and rendered McKay unconscious."

"_Shouldn't we come and assist you?" _

John suppressed an irritated sigh. It was really ironic how his own race had cared so little but the humans cared so much for each other. Enough to endanger themselves to help others. On the offhand chance to be of any help. But this time, all it would do was kill them as well. And John didn't want that, one injured friend was enough to worry about. "No, don't. With Rodney down I don't know if it's safe to get too close. Stay by the jumper."

"_Understood, John. We will inform Colonel Carter that there are problems."_

He didn't bother answering, but just closed the channel and rapidly entered another code, praying to every deity he had ever heard of that he could shut it down completely. "Come on," he muttered and the few seconds it took for the program to accept it felt like eternity.

Taking a closer look at the readings, John cursed. He knew this kind of program and it was volatile at best. If he couldn't shut it down completely, he'd have to get Rodney out before the defense mechanism initiated self-destruct and blew up the whole outpost. But that wasn't the worst.

Cold dread settled in the pit of John's stomach. The energy arch was designed to take out anyone who tried to download restricted data without entering the correct password first, giving a backup-security team the chance to capture – or dispose of the body of – who ever it was who had tried to steal the data. Whether someone was killed or merely rendered unconscious was solely dependant on one thing – the ATA gene. Rodney should have been safe, ready to wake up in the next fifteen minutes – had it not been for the fact that he wasn't a natural ATA gene carrier. He hadn't been born with it and that small fact might prove fatal for him now. Well, not if John could help it though.

Feeling for the fluttering pulse in Rodney's neck John was relieved that he wasn't outright dead, but it was a small comfort. Something was definitely wrong with Rodney and it wasn't just unconsciousness. John silently cursed his race and their stupid, short sighted plans regarding practically everything. John had never liked this kind of defense mechanism, had argued that it was insanity to assume that anyone who would try to steal data and didn't have the gene would automatically be Wraith. Not with all the life they had seeded on all the different planets. But as always, no one had listened to him and the few who had pointed out the flaws in the system.

And now Rodney was paying the price for that stubborn stupidity. They'd lived and died ten thousand years ago and yet they could still influence the lives of others. Angry at them, at himself, at everybody who had just stood by and not done anything when they'd implemented this stupid, unreliable defense system, John knelt next to Rodney. "Fuck," John yelled and hit the console he was closest to with a fist, hearing the clattering of falling tools with satisfaction. The pain was a relief; it focused him, made the anger manageable. He didn't remember ever being so ruled by emotion. Not before, not recently. But it wasn't just Chaya's manipulations or his worry about Rodney's well-being. He'd been struggling to incorporate his old life as Tural into his new life as John more than they'd ever anticipated when he'd descended. The merging hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd thought it would and the dissonances left John reeling for something constant more often than not.

Suddenly, John detected a change in the air around him; the energy was ebbing away ever so slowly. Stomping down on the rising panic and the dread that threatened to overwhelm him, he concentrated on Rodney completely. There was no time to dwell on might have beens and he pushed any thoughts about how the situation could have been avoided out of his mind. He needed to make sure that Rodney was all right, not rage against his inability to stop his peers.

"Time to wake up, Rodney," he muttered as he pulled Rodney into his arms, but Rodney remained stubbornly unconscious. "Don't do this to me, buddy. Don't die on me, Rodney, just ... don't." The heartbeat that roared through his whole being as he touched Rodney's arm was unsteady and a jolt of real fear nearly overtook John. "No, no, no, no," he yelled. "You do not get to die on me, Rodney. You hear me? You don't." Rolling Rodney over on his back John placed both his hands on Rodney's chest. He could feel Rodney's body giving up underneath his fingers, fighting for every heartbeat, every breath.

John closed his eyes in concentration; he would need every bit of it. He hadn't healed anybody in a long, long time. Damn interference guidelines. _Damn Ancients,_ he thought, allowing some of his power to pour into the failing body. "Live," he begged, not knowing if he was too late already. "Please, Rodney, live." Encompassing Rodney with threads of his energy, he made sure Rodney was still breathing and started to look for the source of the damage. The energy beam had caused ruptures on a cellular level to his lungs and his heart and as John started to repair them, he knew it would be a race for Rodney's life. "Live for me," John ordered. He was pushing at Rodney's life energy, at Rodney's very being to keep it from separating from his body. Once before, Rodney had been close to ascension and John knew he could have helped Rodney through that last step now. But John didn't want to. "Live. Don't die. I'll help you. Trust me," John begged again, frustrated by the restraints this body was putting on him. He longed to connect to Rodney more directly, wanted to interact with his essence but the energy, the primal forces that were keeping Rodney alive were so very hard to grasp. Nearing his limits, John reached out with all that he was, reuniting the energy he could feel throbbing under his fingertips with the slowly healing body that was the human form of Dr. Rodney McKay. He wouldn't let slip Rodney away like this. Not like this. Not through something as stupid as a ten thousand year old defense system that protected boring, useless data.

One heartbeat passed. Another. And another. Then Rodney's heart returned to a steady rhythm, his breathing became more regular and John had won the fight for Rodney's life. Relief hit John hard and he allowed himself a few more moments of contact, until Rodney's eyes fluttered open.

Regretfully, John reined in his powers. "Rodney?" he asked even has he allowed tendrils of his consciousness to seek out Rodney on another level, checking him over, making sure he was all there, that nothing was lost. "Are you alright, buddy?" he said to cover his relief.

"What happened?"

And from one moment to the next something shattered inside of John. "I almost lost you," he whispered, "you nearly died and ... and I ..." He closed his eyes, struggled for control and ... lost. Slowly opening his eyes again, John gave in to the urge he had felt since the day before. He had denied himself this long enough. Hands on Rodney's shoulders, John slowly leaned down and brushed his lips over Rodney's. To John's surprise Rodney's body relaxed underneath him and Rodney's eyes fell closed.

Encouraged by Rodney's positive reaction, John carefully licked Rodney's lower lip, tracing it with the tip of his tongue teasingly. Rodney opened willingly, a soft moan escaping him. That sound alone served to make John instantly, completely and painfully hard. He was lying half on top of Rodney by now, hand coming up to play with Rodney's soft hair as he began to explore Rodney's mouth slowly with his tongue.

Within seconds, Rodney filled all of John's senses. The smell, taste and feeling of Rodney under his fingers, close to him, were all intoxicating and John felt another wave of desire rush through him. They parted, slowly, unwillingly and John breathed kisses along Rodney's jaw line. "Rodney ..." He wanted so much, wanted to undress Rodney, taste every inch of skin.

"John ... no," Rodney said, his hands pushing at John's shoulders.

He didn't think he'd ever sobered up faster than when he was scrambling away from Rodney, aware that he'd just practically plastered himself against the man. "I'm sorry," he hurriedly said, "I'm so sorry, Rodney, I didn't think ... I ..."

Rodney was there in a second, kissing him passionately before pulling back again and grinning at him. A wide, open smile that was full of happiness. "No, it's just… we can't do this here," he finally said, "think of what Carson will say if we come back covered in hickeys. Never mind anything else."

John relaxed, reaching out to run his hand down the side of Rodney's face, his neck, enjoying the feel of skin under his fingertips. "Yeah, of course. I got carried away," he replied with a smile of his own.

_"Colonel Sheppard? Are you alright, sir?"_

They jumped at Lorne's voice coming through their earpieces. For a moment John felt panic bubble inside, but then he realized that while John had always walked that line, never crossing, Tural really, really didn't care about the uniform code. But Tural hadn't cared much for sex, either. Mentally shaking his head over his suddenly slightly schizophrenic thoughts, John opened the channel, his eyes never wavering from Rodney's. "Yeah, we're fine. It stopped and whatever it was that affected McKay is gone now." He picked himself up off the floor, offering Rodney a hand. Even that innocent touch felt wonderful and John almost didn't let go again. But Rodney glared at him briefly, in a rather exasperated and fond way until he had his hand back. "We're going to pull the rest of the data and come back. Give us a minute."

"_Yes, sir." _

"And don't approach," he ordered. Not so much afraid of the self-defense mechanism anymore, but he selfishly wanted to have Rodney for himself. "We don't know if it's still dangerous." Lorne acknowledged and John closed the channel. He couldn't help himself and went to stand behind Rodney, their bodies touching as much as possible.

"You have to back off if you want me to finish this today," Rodney said in a strangled voice. His shoulders were tense.

With a sense of loss, John stepped away. He had to put his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to Rodney, though. When the urge to touch got worse instead of dimming, John looked around to find something – anything really – to keep himself busy. With a sigh, he started to pick up the tools he'd scattered in his fit of anger earlier. At least nothing had broken. Time sped up while John carefully put Rodney's toolkit back together and stealing glances at Rodney working. It was a relief that he could now look without fear of being discovered, without worrying how Rodney would react. The hot stab of anticipation in his stomach banked down a little into something bearable and by the time Rodney looked up at him, John had packed up their things and he was able to walk out of the outpost like nothing had happened.

That didn't mean post-mission routine wasn't a bitch. The mission debrief was a special kind of hell with Sam throwing them concerned looks even though Carson's preliminary check-up had been clear. The in-depth medical examination was one that bordered on the unbearable with all the prodding and poking going on. Something John had started to expect when things went wrong. And after the rush of adrenaline back in the outpost, the whole thing passed at a snail's pace.

He was relieved when Carson kicked him out and unhappy because Carson had decided to keep Rodney for observation. John couldn't exactly say 'don't worry, I healed him, he's never been better', so he gave in to the inevitable and went to his quarters. Alone. Ostensibly to shower and change, but really to sulk and pretend to read his stupid book.

Instead of doing any of these things, he found himself lying on the tiny bed he'd picked, staring at the ceiling. He could still feel Rodney's lips on his, Rodney's warmth underneath his fingers. It was maddening, to have been so close and not have the opportunity to do anything else.

"_McKay to Sheppard."_

John nearly fell off his bed when he jerked at Rodney's voice in his ear. He activated the radio. "Rodney?" The only radio call he'd expected was one to inform him of an immediate emergency, certainly not Rodney, who shouldn't even have his radio at the time.

"_There's something I need to show you, could you come over to my quarters?"_

"Sure," John said, but he frowned; Rodney didn't sound like he had anything but work on his mind at all. Not exactly what John had been hoping for, if he was being honest. "Gimme ten minutes." He really did need a shower after two days off world. The water felt wonderful, but John just went through the motions quickly, his mind on the tone of Rodney's voice, the way he'd sounded almost distracted. Puzzled, not excited or longing.

Dressed in a clean uniform John left his quarters, feeling apprehensive. He didn't bother waiting in front of Rodney's door, he just thought 'open' at the door and it did as it had been asked. John had always been able to do that, he'd done it to annoy Rodney, this time Rodney didn't even look up from the laptop he was working on. Well, crap. The laptop he'd had with him at the outpost. The one with all the interesting data. Fuck.

"What happened while I was unconscious?" was the first thing Rodney said after the door had slid shut again behind John.

John sighed. He'd hoped to put this off for a little longer, at least till the next morning. "I don't know exactly what happened, but you suddenly were engulfed in some sort of energy beam, keeled over and the self defense systems started up." With a frown Rodney finally looked at him. "You triggered it when you tried to download sensitive data. That's at least what the console you worked on said. My Ancient is good enough to decipher some stuff," John said, going to stand behind Rodney and looking over his shoulders. "What's the problem?"

"I picked up two energy spikes, one coinciding with the activation of the self defense, the other around the time I woke up. And I can't figure out where the second one came from. Look at that," Rodney said, pointing at the data. "The first spike is massive and just as it looks like the system is powering down the second spike occurred. That kind of energy isn't generated when a system shuts down."

"Hmm," John said. He hadn't even thought about what Rodney would find in the data he'd gotten or that he'd work on it the first available moment. Of course he wouldn't just let it sit there and rot. Considering John had been looking forward to Rodney getting out of the infirmary and continue what they'd started earlier John would have felt a whole lot better if Rodney had still been stuck there. Speaking of which, "Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?" A night's reprieve would certainly have been helpful.

Rodney waved away John's words with one hand while he scrolled down the page with the other. "No, Carson finally gave in a bit after you left. All he knows is that I'm alright. Whatever happened in the outpost, it at least didn't leave any lasting effects. How come you weren't affected as well?"

Reading the numbers over Rodney's shoulder John merely shrugged. "I guess I just wasn't in range of the beam. Luck maybe?" This really wasn't good. The sensor data pretty much told Rodney everything he needed to know about who and what John was. If Rodney really did work it out John wouldn't have been able to keep his secret for longer than a week. Wouldn't that suck? He wanted to change the numbers, distract Rodney, make him forget he'd seen anything at all, but John couldn't do that. Not while Rodney was looking. And he wanted so much more from Rodney and he was already lying. _The mires of moral dilemmas,_ John thought, trying to decide what to do. Changing anything would just make a wrong that much more wrong. Damn it. John really wished he could tell Rodney without appearing to be a total idiot. He quietly watched as Rodney got a pad of paper and started writing down equations rapidly.

"I really don't think the system powering down would take so much energy, but there was nothing else there that'd be able to use thatamount of power without burning up," Rodney muttered.

John closed his eyes briefly, desperately thinking of something he could say that wouldn't just create more questions. "Are you sure your equipment was working properly?" he finally asked, settling on diversion rather than misinformation.

That produced a deep frown while Rodney looked over the numbers again. "I'll have to check that later," Rodney conceded. "Could be that the first spike broke something important."

John suppressed a sigh of relief. He'd make sure something would be broken before Rodney could check. "Probably a good idea," he said, nodding. Rodney was still writing out equations on the notepad and John couldn't help following his line of thought. It was interesting how Rodney's mind worked, very interesting. John had never really been able to keep up with Rodney. Not properly anyway. But now? Now everything made sense the way John remembered from before. Before he'd descended. It was ... odd. Rodney not being more intelligent than him anymore. "You forgot to invert the polarity there," John pointed out a part of the equation.

Rodney stopped writing, his pen hovering over the pad. "What?"

"You forgot to invert the polarity here," John repeated patiently. When Rodney just frowned at his notes John took the pen from him, leaning in close, his breath ghosting over Rodney's cheek, and changed the faulty part. "There, much better," he said, putting the pen back into Rodney's hand.

For a moment Rodney sat there, staring at the paper in front of him before he slowly turned around to John. There was a look of awed disbelief on his face and he was stunned into silence. "You ... you understand this?" he asked.

John turned his head into Rodney's shoulder, breathing in deeply. Rodney hadn't showered yet, apparently, but John wasn't bothered, he smelled good enough to eat. "Yeah," he muttered. He understood that and more. Things Rodney only dreamed about, things that Rodney had done while he was under the influence of the ascension machine. John understood it all. "Yeah, I understand."

Rodney's eyes widened and John could tell the exact second when Rodney realized how close John was right then. "John?"

Another deep breath and John struggled to back off a bit. "Sorry, I just want …" John started, but was lost for words. He wanted to touch, to lick that spot on Rodney's neck he'd just been so close to. Wanted to kiss, to hold. It felt like he'd never wantedthat badly in all his life. His people hadn't glorified sex the way the humans from Earth did and Tural had never taken a partner in his life. Chaya had disgusted him and once the war had started … well, he'd never had the wish to find someone. As John he'd married, but he'd never been especially touchy-feely or promiscuous. Wanting … needing to touch Rodney so badly was something entirely new to him. "Rodney," he moaned, trying to pull himself together. He looked down at the notepad again, his voice rough as he finished the line for Rodney. "And …"

But Rodney had gotten up and wrapped his arms around John, pulling him into a searing kiss. A surge of desire shot through John at the heat of Rodney against him, Rodney's hands seemingly everywhere. He was drunk on being touched, drunk on Rodney and he lost himself in the kiss. "Keep talking," Rodney moaned as they came up to breathe, pushing his erection against John's thigh.

"What about?" John asked, puzzled for a moment, but when Rodney repeated the equation back at him in a breathless, rough voice, his eyes dilated so much that there was only a small ring of blue left, John got it. "Math turns you on?"

Instead of an answer, Rodney rubbed himself against John. Groaning, John buried his head in Rodney's neck again, nipping the tender skin he found there. "Overdressed," he gasped. They both scrambled to undress each other between kisses and groans and numbers.

John took a deep breath, steadying himself, then lowered Rodney gently onto the bed, settling onto him, their bodies fitting together like they belonged. "One plus one is two," John murmured against Rodney's jaw, knowing his antics would get a reaction out of Rodney. And he was right. John could feel the heat roll off Rodney and the indignation, even though he couldn't see the glare. He smiled into the skin he was caressing, feeling Rodney sputter beneath him. "The square root of one hundred is ten," he muttered, his hands running down Rodney's sides.

"Stop teasing me," Rodney moaned, his voice rough.

Smiling to himself, John moved down and let the equations flow out of him, breathing them onto Rodney's skin, loving how he twitched and moaned beneath fingers, mouth, teeth, and numbers.

"John ..." Rodney's voice was husky, barely above a whisper, but pleading all the same.

"Yes, Rodney?" John asked innocently, lifting his head long enough from Rodney's skin to look him in the eyes. "Did you need something?"

"I need you to stop fooling around and get down …" John didn't let him finish the sentence but slid down Rodney's body instead, taking Rodney's cock deep into his mouth. Rodney hissed. "… to business, I was going to say. Damn it, John, fuck me already you're driving me nuts!"

John smiled around the cock in his mouth before releasing it, giving it one final lick. "Someone's impatient," he grinned, reaching for the lube.

"Like that's news to you. And your math sucks, I'll have you know. Every third grader can do better math you just did. That all you can come up with?" Rodney snapped, his voice somewhere between breathless and challenging.

Taking the bait, John reached down with one slick finger, teasing Rodney before pushing inside, making Rodney gasp. "So you think my math sucks, huh? Maybe you're just too distracted to listen properly? Maybe you got it all wrong …" John teased, pushing a second finger in beside the first one.

The reaction was everything John had hoped for. Rodney groaned deep in his throat, hands tightening in the sheets and back arching slightly. Rodney's hips thrust up, seeking friction and John grinned, leaning down to lick a long stripe from the base of Rodney's cock all the way up to the moist tip.

"John, please!" Rodney begged and this time, John complied. He pulled his fingers free and slicked himself up in a hurry. Before Rodney could protest about John stopping, John pushed Rodney's legs back against his torso and leaned down on him. John began to recite more complicated equations against the heated skin of Rodney's neck and chest, enjoying the way Rodney's breath hitched. Rodney was really turned on by this.

John took a deep breath to get his arousal under control, steadying himself before he pushed in slowly, entering Rodney for the first time. Rodney's body accepted John easily, opening up around him so John could slide all the way in.

Rodney's eyes were closed, his legs circling John's waist, pulling John closer, pulling him in even deeper. John gave a few shallow thrusts that made Rodney squirm and moan under him, before he leaned close to Rodney's ear, breathing aeronautical equations into his skin.

John really wasn't convinced Rodney could follow anything of what John was saying by now, but it was a lot of fun to tease him that way, anyway. Simply because Rodney was turned on immensely by the mere fact that they were equations – no matter what they were about or how complicated they were. And John was thrilled to be able to say them out loud, to not have to play dumb for a while.

As he sped up his thrusts, enjoying the way Rodney looked all flushed and tousled and hot, John had an idea. It was a bit risky, but Rodney seemed to be so far gone that it most probably wouldn't matter much. Feeling daring, John concentrated on his memories, recalling the lessons his instructors had drilled into him, things he might need to know in the event of an emergency. It was all there in his mind and now, he'd share it with Rodney. ZPM power output, power fluctuations, formula after formula, equation after equation whispered and moaned, murmured and breathed against Rodney's writhing body.

Just when John was halfway through the mathematical solution to recharging ZPM, Rodney suddenly stilled and came, spilling hot cum between their bodies. John's breath caught, the feeling of Rodney tightening all around him, the smell of sex, Rodney's erratic heartbeat under his fingers ... the combined onslaught of sensations sent John over the edge right behind him.

Panting heavily, John leaned down to plant a small kiss onto Rodney's pulse point, licking the damp skin he found appreciatively. Damn, he wanted this man. Even though, technically, John most probably hadn't been supposed to pursue any relationships on his rather important mission, John couldn't find he cared. At all. Screw the rules, he was outside of the rules anyway, was meant to be outside of the rules, so why not in this instance, as well? He breathed a kiss onto Rodney's sweaty skin, suddenly freezing when realization practically hit him like a ton of bricks. _Oh … this isn't just desire. I love him. I love Rodney._

John grinned dopily as he looked down at Rodney's flushed, sticky form. He was still panting as hard as John and his skin shone with perspiration. He was the sexiest sight John had ever laid eyes on, and he was all John's.

Careful not to hurt him, John slowly slipped out of Rodney, rolling so he came to lie on the bed beside his lover. Rodney's eyes opened and he looked directly at John. Putting his head on Rodney's shoulder John curled up as close as possible. "I should have known math would turn you on," he said and licked Rodney's shoulder, just because he could. Then he frowned; the tension palpable in Rodney's body was completely in contrast to anything John knew as afterglow. "Rodney?" he asked, worried he'd done something wrong.

"John, you've been reciting ZedPM formulas," Rodney finally said, his voice strangely cold considering what they'd just been doing.

"Yeah, sure. Why not? It's math after all," John replied with an easy grin while his stomach dropped out. _Oh damn it._ Rodney had picked up on it. What the hell had he been thinking? Oh yes, he hadn't actually been using his big head at the time. Fuck. John really didn't want to lose Rodney and he didn't know how well Rodney would take the news that John and Tural were the same person. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes, yes it worked quite well," Rodney replied, the hard look in his eyes not changing. "It worked a bit too well, actually. Would you care to explain to me how you got that sort of data? You know how to build and recharge ZedPMs, right? You've known all along. What kind of game is this to you? Tease the naive scientist?" Rodney asked angrily.

John tensed. Fuck. His fingers stilled on their way up Rodney's side as he felt Rodney draw away. "I don't ..."

"Don't lie to me, John ... or should I call you Tural? Chaya was right, wasn't she? She said you were Tural because she knew you. It was you she was engaged to. No wonder she wanted to keep you. Did the two of you have a good laugh at our expense? At my expense?" Rodney was positively livid by now, body tense with anger and hurt.

John felt every word out of Rodney's mouth like a blow. This so wasn't going according to the rather vague plan he'd had in the back of his mind. "Listen to me, Rodney. I swear to you, I didn't lie. Everything I said was true. I might have left out a few bits here and there but the things I said, those things were the truth," John said, not caring that he sounded as desperate as he felt. What was the loss of his pride compared to losing Rodney? At Rodney's glare he hastily added, "Okay, mostly the truth, alright? Mostly. But I couldn't just …"

But Rodney held up a hand. "I don't believe you," Rodney snapped, clearly hurt and confused. He pushed at John's chest and John shuffled away on the bed, not wanting to crowd Rodney if he really didn't want to be near John any more. "Why should I believe even one word you say? You've been pretending all this time. You're a fake. An actor. Nothing but some perverted Ancient who gets off on watching us, pretending to be one of us. What were we to you, Tural? Some specimen in a terrarium? Let's see how the stupid humans deal with being alone in a foreign galaxy, cut off from home? Is that what it takes to give you a kick?" Rodney got up, pulling on his clothes with sharp, angry motions.

"You know that's not true!" John exclaimed, feeling like someone had pulled the floor out from under him. Rodney's words, his mistrust hurt so badly and John was lost for words that could possibly explain or make it all better. How was he supposed to make this right again? Rodney's friendship was so very important to John and until he'd had the incredibly stupid idea about the ZPM formulas, he'd actually hoped Rodney would come to love him. That he maybe even loved him a little already.

John knew it would have been so very easy to lower the tight grip on his mental shielding and have a peek at how Rodney really felt, but John doubted that right now Rodney felt anything besides hurt, anger and disgust towards John. And that was something John really didn't need to experience first hand. Seeing it in Rodney's eyes and on his face, hurt badly enough already. John didn't need to actually feel it. He knew he couldn't deal with those kinds of emotions coming from Rodney at that moment.

As if on cue, Rodney sarcastically asked, "Oh, do I now?" making it clear he wasn't going to give in anytime soon.

John suppressed a sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. This was ridiculous. If only he could find a way to make Rodney see, make him understand, make him believe that John had never meant to hurt him. That John just hadn't felt comfortable with anyone knowing. Not even Rodney. This whole thing was still so very new to John as well, and even though his memories from his time as Tural had settled easily once they were all online, John still felt a little off.

But he was no liar. He wasn't a fake. He hadn't been pretending to like, no, to love Rodney.

"Rodney, you know me. You know who I am, no matter what name you call me. I'm still John, I'm still the same person. I didn't suddenly become someone else just because I know a little more and can do a little more," John tried to reason with his agitated lover.

Disgust was written plainly all over Rodney's face and he snorted, "Yeah, right. 'Know a little more, can do a little more'," he mimicked derisively.

"I didn't do it to hurt you, Rodney. You … you mean a great deal to me and I'd never intentionally cause you harm. You have to believe me. Please, Rodney. I'm sorry, alright? I'll admit I didn't think this through to the end, and I didn't anticipate that you would actually remember any of what I said to you. I'm truly sorry that I didn't consider what my actions would mean for you and the way you feel about me. I'm totally out of my depth here. I'm not used to feeling like this. People usually don't get to me like you do, Rodney. I'm bad at letting anyone close." John made a last, helpless attempt to get through to Rodney.

At that, Rodney laughed a dry, humorless laugh, his eyes full of betrayal and pain. "Do you ever listen to yourself? You don't even sound like yourself any more. You sound like one of them already. And what is that talk about me 'meaning a great deal' to you? As if someone like you would really develop feelings for me. It was laughable when you were 'just' Sheppard, the hottest guy on Atlantis. But now you're some higher being. I don't think enlightened, ascended Ancients ... whatever you are ... are interested in people like me. Genius or not."

"People like you?" John asked, dumbfounded. He really didn't know what Rodney was talking about. "Why the hell would I not want to be with a brilliant, sarcastic, loyal man who happens to be the best friend I've ever had – in either life?" John asked, completely serious. Why was it so hard for Rodney to understand that John felt drawn towards him? That John would find Rodney attractive?

"Oh please. Spare me that drivel," Rodney snapped and John felt a wave of dread settle over him. Rodney just wouldn't believe him. If only John could show Rodney that his feelings were true...

John paused in thought, stunned that the idea only now came to him. Hmm. That might be worth a try. It would be pushing the limits quite a bit again but Rodney was worth it. More than worth it. John needed Rodney and he was aware enough of himself by now to realize just how deep that need ran. "Rodney," he said and got up, but didn't try and approach Rodney. Right now, he might get punched, John knew that, could feel it vibrating between them. Rodney was standing at the other side of the room, arms folded defensively over his chest, and there was so much vulnerability under all that anger and hurt that John ached from just looking at him.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable in his naked state with Rodney fully dressed, John picked up his underwear and his shirt, thinking of what he was about to do. It was risky and could end up with more hard feelings between them than before, but it was definitely worth a try. Because right now John doubted Rodney would believe a single word he said. Rodney was a scientist, he needed proof.

Coming to a decision, John concentrated on the way Rodney made him feel and just pushed. All his feelings, his own confusion, his love, his need, his want, he packed it all up, tight and tidy and pushed it over to Rodney, gave Rodney all he was. Seeing Rodney struggle with what he was feeling, John nudged a bit, helped Rodney unravel it and then he watched as the anger and the fear that had been Rodney's expression vaporized slowly. The surprise was something John had been expecting, but Rodney's eyes widened and he looked at John staggering back a bit, obviously overwhelmed by what he had received. John had forgotten how this could be for mere mortals and he was almost sorry for doing it, if there hadn't been such awe on Rodney's face for a moment before pulled himself together.

"Don't do that," Rodney hissed, eyes narrowing. He was livid. "You can't just go around and shove your feelings, feelings you can't even name, at me, expecting me to fall at your feet, eternally grateful that you, the great and mighty Ancient are considering me, the mere mortal. You're being such an ass about this whole situation that I can't even tell you how much you disgust me right now. You're manipulative. And careless. You lied to me and you kept things from me, important things. How could you do this if you claim I mean something to you? You called me your friend. Your best friend. Well, let me tell you something, you don't treat friends like that. Even I know that and I'm not the most adept person when it comes to social situations. So excuse me if I think you're being a presumptuous ass, pushing your feelings at me like that, showing off your newfound powers and thinking that will solve everything. Because it doesn't. I don't know who you are and I'm not sure I want to know. I'm not sure I even like who you've become."

"Rodney," John repeated and now he did take a step towards Rodney, hands out in the most unthreatening way he knew. Hearing Rodney say those things hurt and John feared he might have messed up whatever relationship they had had, for good. "That's not why I was doing it, Rodney," John said, heatedly. "And I'm not thinking of myself as some great and almighty Ancient, because I'm not. Don't you get it? I'm still me. And I've just realized that I'm in love with you. I think I loved you from the moment I set eyes on you in Antarctica. I just didn't know what it was, back then. What I just gave to you is just a glimpse at what I feel for you. I didn't do it to manipulate you into anything but to make you believe me. Damn it, Rodney, I have no idea what I'm doing half of the time. It seemed like a good plan at that moment. I'm not some scheming Ancient bastard running around wanting to be worshipped or something like that. I'm trying my best, all right? I mean it Rodney… I'm totally lost here. There's not exactly a manual for the situation I'm in." John hoped he was getting through to Rodney. He hadn't meant to make such a mess of their relationship, hadn't meant to jump Rodney's bones on the first occasion, possibly ruining their friendship forever. He had just acted on impulse, his feelings and desires. It had been a spur of the moment thing while his emotional state was completely messed up.

Luckily for John, Rodney didn't move back, a lot. He just looked at him in the most vulnerable way and John knew that he couldn't fuck this up or he'd hurt Rodney more than he could ever make up. "I didn't plan on deceiving you, Rodney. You have to believe that. Until the neurotransmitter treatment, I didn't even know I really was Tural. Sure, I figured that Chaya was either crazy, or right. But until the moment I woke up I didn't know. All right? I just … I didn't want anybody to treat me differently. We're just people, Rodney."

"Just people," Rodney repeated scathingly. "You're ascended. You're an omnipotent, all knowing, ten thousand year old being. You could do so much, teach us so much. You could help us against the Wraith!"

John shook his head slowly, taking another step closer to Rodney. "No. You've got it completely wrong. I'm not ascended, I'm not omnipotent or all knowing. I'm just a Lantean soldier, who ascended at one point and got descended again to … help. Sure, I have my memories from before, and I still know everything John knew, but only very little of the ascended knowledge remains. You know it'd be impossible for me to keep that kind of memories. It would kill me or render me insensible, like Orlin." The simple fact that Rodney was still listening made John hopeful as he took one more step. They were within touching range now, but John made no move to do so.

"Why are you here?" Rodney asked. He sounded like he desperately wanted to believe John, but couldn't quite do it yet.

"It was agreed that we cannot interfere while ascended, but a group of us believe that we've made a lot of mistakes and should do something to fix them. The others allowed for one of us to descend to Earth, integrate into a family, become a part of the population. We can't see the future or change it, but we can see the possibilities and the probability of our descendants returning to Atlantis one day were high," John explained, haltingly. He knew he sounded distant, but that's how it all felt. Like a dim dream, the memories of his orders. They were muffled, warped and John knew the only way to regain all of them was to ascend again. To go back to sitting in the golden cage. Knowing everything and being allowed to do nothing.

Rodney looked uncomfortable. "They kicked you out?"

"No, I volunteered," John answered honestly.

"Oh my God! You've always been suicidal, haven't you? I bet you were just the same as Tural, going where no one else dared to tread," Rodney exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in what was definitely supposed to be an accusing manner. At least he'd started relaxing again and John felt something inside of him unclench.

John shrugged and grinned. "Yeah well. Someone has to do the things I do. If not me it'd be someone else, ya know?" The skeptical look that earned John was like it had been before. It said something along the line of John possibly being as stupid as most of the morons working for him in the labs. For some unspeakable reason that made John feel warm and loved, but also sobered him up rather quickly. "Rodney," he said haltingly, "I'm sorry, I should have told you." He'd never been this sorry about anything in his life. Both of his lives put together. "I … I care for you. And I don't know what else to say." Rodney wasn't usually this inscrutable, but John couldn't read him. There were too many conflicting emotions warring in Rodney's eyes and the silence stretched too long for John's comfort. "Rodney," he tried again, but Rodney shook his head.

He sighed. "Yeah, you should have told me," Rodney finally said and John's heart sank when Rodney stepped back, out of reach. "This isn't something that I can just … you know, pretend didn't happen. I need time to think about it."

John gave Rodney a sad smile, then went to gather the rest of his scattered clothes in silence. On the way out, he paused to face Rodney again. He wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to touch him, but all he did was look.

"I won't tell anyone," Rodney said, then he palmed the door open.

Taking it as a hint, John left.

The End.

**Continue reading by going to the next chapter to read: _Total Recall 3 - Decisions_**

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**Cassandra's Author Notes:** I loved working on this story very, very much. Melinda kept teasing me about it *pouts* but I think the idea is awesome and I love it to bits. Writing it was far more enjoyable than I can express in words and I hope you liked reading it as well.

**Melinda's Author Notes:** Writing this story in our new universe was lots of fun even though Cass _was_ acting like a hyperactive five year old in her love for the story. I think she's found her new happy place in the universe we created. I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much as I … _we_ enjoyed writing it.


	3. Decisions

**Title:** Decisions  
**Author:** ca_pierson and darkmoore05  
**Beta:** neevebrodyon livejournal**  
Pairing:** McKay/Sheppard**  
Rating:** PG-13**  
Word count:** 7.510**  
Genre:** AU**  
Disclaimer:** Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to us, neither do the characters. This is a transformative work and we aren't making any money from it.**  
Author's Notes:** Thanks so much to neevebrody for her amazing beta work. We can't put into words how very grateful we are to you. Thank you.

**Summary:** Rodney is hurt and confused after finding out what John has been hiding. He goes to look for some answers and finds more than he bargained for.

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**Total Recall 3 - Decisions**

**by Melinda and Cassandra Pierson**

Rodney felt like an absolute idiot. The clues had all been there since John had gotten his memories back. They'd been there but Rodney had stupidly believed John – no, Tural – when he'd said that nothing had changed. That he was still John, that it was all just like a bad memory. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered and started pacing the room.

For the first time in Rodney's life someone had practically jumped his bones. Someone nice, someone intelligent, someone good-looking. And wasn't it unfair that this someone had to be a descended Ancient who just happened to overwrite the memory of his very best friend? There was no way to tell if Tural said the truth, no way at all. Yes, he'd felt the overwhelming desire and love in whatever Tural had done to him. Rodney had even gotten a glimpse of the desperation that had been so audible in Tural's voice. But could he really be sure that it wasn't something made up? Rodney wanted to believe him. Desperately. But there was also a part of him that was impossibly upset.

And John … oh fuck, John, what was he going to do about the whole mess? Tural was John. No, John was Tural. John had been Tural. Still was Tural? Was Tural again? Where was John then and did John think of himself as John or as Tural now?

Rodney's head swam from trying to figure it out and he wanted to scream. He just wanted John, wanted his best friend back and not some Ancient in disguise. Not some Ancient jerk who had put on the face of his best friend, his voice and his looks. Had his quirks and his memories.

Memories – that was pretty much what it came down to. Those damn ancient memories. The memories that had robbed Rodney of his best friend and had given him a pod-person. An Ancient wannabe who was neither human nor Ancient now and who apparently was in love with him.

It was all such a mess.

For his own sanity he decided – until proven otherwise – to call him John anyway, since calling him Tural even in his mind made Rodney's skin prickle with unease. Also, he might slip if he didn't. He had promised not to tell anybody and because Rodney … yes, Rodney loved John as well, and he was damn well going to keep that promise.

Feeling a headache coming, Rodney forced himself to stop thinking about it. Instead, he picked up his laptop with the – now even more valuable – data and hurried to his lab. Rodney finally understood why there had been such a shifty look in John's eyes when he'd talked about his memories, about how he didn't remember anything. Nobody else had noticed, but Rodney knew John very, very well. But when they'd talked in the outpost John had been sincere then. About Rodney asking, about telling Rodney what he could.

Rodney growled at himself. "Stop thinking about it," he muttered and settled down at his workbench. He immersed himself in the numbers, forgetting everything else for the moment. There were three different datasets the Ancient scanners collected and he had to compare them. Radek and he had been working on a program to integrate all of it on one timeline, but they hadn't managed to get it working yet. It all just got hopelessly garbled. Rodney blamed the Ancients and their aversion towards proper indexing.

Rodney sighed and tried once more to combine data that stubbornly refused to cooperate. Some of that data just didn't make any sense. Really, no sense at all. Rodney's thoughts wandered back to the second energy spike, how John had suggested that the equipment had been faulty. Belatedly Rodney realized that John had most probably only said that so he didn't have to outright lie to Rodney. For some reason that thought gave Rodney a warm feeling.

_Stop it,_ he firmly told himself, but it was no use. Rodney's mind was now occupied with the information he had gathered about the second energy spike. The spike that had occurred around the same time Rodney had woken up again.

Coincidence? Unlikely.

There was something nagging Rodney at the back of his mind. Something he couldn't quite grasp yet. Couldn't name. Didn't dare to think about. Something he stubbornly, stoically refused to consider.

Energy. John was – as an Ancient – virtually made of energy. Surely his body had changed to adapt to his new memories? John most probably wasn't entirely human any more.

Was it possible? Could John be responsible for the second energy spike? And if yes, why?

What had driven him to expose himself like that even if it meant he might be detected? That he might be revealed as who and what he was? What the hell had happened and what was it that John wasn't telling? Because Rodney was sure that while John had told him the entire truth now, he was also keeping something back. That was what had made Rodney angrier than the rest of it together.

Sighing, Rodney opened the next set of data and painstakingly inserted the batches into his analysis manually. "Stupid Ancients," he muttered as he stabbed at the keys viciously. There it was. The first energy spike coincided with Rodney starting the data download, which made perfect sense. Then nothing … nothing … nothing … oh crap. He scrolled back quickly, watching the streams of numbers that were his and John's "life signs". Heartbeat, respiration, the scanner picked up a lot of useless crap, really. Well, not so useless sometimes, as it was. Eyes wide, Rodney stared at the numbers in front of him that told him how his heart rate had first sped up dangerously, before it had become arrhythmic and had slowed down. A lot. As in close to cardiac arrest. At the same time, he'd almost stopped breathing … until the second energy spike.

Fuck.

Rodney had been dying, he'd nearly been dead and John … John had saved him. He'd fixed him up good as new if Carson was to be believed.

Shocked to the core, Rodney sat back in his chair, still staring at his computer screen with unseeing eyes. John had saved his life. John had ... John had risked being discovered to save Rodney's life.

Sure, technically it wasn't the first time John had taken personal risks to keep the expedition – keep Rodney – safe, in fact it had been more often than Rodney liked to think about. But this was something different. This was up close and personal. Intimate in a way that Rodney was all too familiar with.

Rodney could still remember the burn on Radek's chest, the way his life energy had fluttered and died underneath his hands, how Radek's life was slipping through his fingers and all he had to do was push at it, force it back into Radek's body as he healed it.

Rodney highly doubted that it had been as easy for John. Something told him that the way someone was dying mattered and that John had fought and struggled for Rodney to stay alive. There was something in the readings of the life sign monitor that definitely spoke of struggle. It wasn't a continuous downward slope and then getting better again. It looked as if it had started out bad, had gotten worse and then to almost fatal and John had pulled him off the brink, struggling several moments if the readings were anything to go by, until the heartbeat and the breathing rate normalized.

And Rodney had woken.

Rodney had woken to a John whose voice had been full of such terror at the thought of losing Rodney that it still sent shivers down his spine.

_"I almost lost you. You nearly died and ... and I ..."_

Rodney called himself all kinds of stupid as he remembered John's words.

_"You nearly died ..."_ John had said it himself. Slip of tongue most probably judging by how shaken he'd been. And for once, Rodney's genius mind hadn't caught on.

If he really had almost died, how would a merely human John have managed to get him back good as new?

Curious, Rodney sat up straighter again and opened the files containing the completed mission reports. He wasn't surprised that in John's report there was no talk of Rodney's life having been in danger. Unconscious? Yes. Dying? Not so much.

Frowning to himself, Rodney opened the log he had pulled from the outpost after he'd 'woken up' again. They always did that. Standard procedure … they'd yet to find anything interesting, mainly because the Ancients had pulled out in too much of a hurry to do much more than power everything down. But Elizabeth had started keeping a list of names of the last Ancients leaving any outpost they found and the science department had continued the project after she'd died. In memory of her.

There it was. In pristine Ancient. John had shut off the self-defense system with his fucking command code. Of course they'd all known that Tural was a soldier, John had told Rodney that with tales from his zone outs, but that he'd been high enough in the hierarchy to have these codes was … not at all surprising.

Rodney closed his eyes, forcing himself to think about it rationally. There was no place for feelings of betrayal and hurt in this. It was too important. Too important for John and too important for the whole expedition. To have a living, breathing Ancient had always been something like the Holy Grail for all of them. Someone who could tell them all sorts of things, who could warn them away from the really dangerous stuff. Who could explain the filing order of the database … Rodney had just never figured John could be that Ancient.

Looking at the bare facts, John had lied to them, had said that he couldn't remember. But he could. He obviously remembered quite clearly. He still remembered his command code, for fuck's sake. John hadn't given them any information or help whatsoever, which was understandable though, they all knew what happened to Ancients who ignored the rules. John had saved Rodney's life despite all that. Had practically opened himself up to all kinds of unpleasantness, both from the people constituting the expedition and the Ancients. Briefly, Rodney wondered if there were consequences to John saving Rodney's life like that, if there was a price to pay. He really hoped there wasn't, but by now he didn't believe that the Ancients had had any common sense and he doubted that was something that came with Ascension.

Staring at the data in front of him for a long, long time, Rodney did the only thing he could do. He methodically deleted everything and then proceeded to wipe the scanner itself. No-one could know. This was something that had the potential to destroy John and Rodney couldn't let that happen.

Rodney wouldn't – and couldn't – allow John to end up a guinea pig for some misguided SGC personnel or as a living and breathing database for the expedition's scientists. Locked away, because he was too precious to lose. It'd kill John as surely as a bullet to the head. No way was Rodney going to allow any of them to hurt John.

The wave of protectiveness that rushed through Rodney came as a bit of a surprise. The man had lied to him, had deceived him.

_Yes, he did and he had a damn good reason for it,_ a small voice inside Rodney's head reminded him. Rodney shut it up quickly, muttering, "He knew he could trust me. He knew I'd never rat him out to anyone. I trust him with my life, why couldn't he do the same?"

"I do trust you, Rodney. I trust you more than I've trusted anyone in my life – ever." Rodney spun around, startled. John was leaning in the doorway of the lab, looking tired and drawn. Somehow, Rodney couldn't be angry with him at that moment. "I needed time to sort things out. I'd have told you, eventually. There is so much I want to give you. So much I want to tell you, but I just ... I can't. Not the way I'd really like to, anyway. But I'll do what I can, I promise," John went on, quietly. Then he turned around again, obviously about to leave and Rodney just wasn't going let that happen.

"John, wait! Why did you come here? What do you want?" Rodney asked, but he suspected he knew the answer to that question already.

"I came to do what you're doing right now," John replied, but he didn't turn back to look at Rodney. As if he wouldn't be able to say what he had to say if he looked Rodney in the eyes. "I came to wipe out my traces. I can't let it be known who and what I am, not yet anyway. I'm sorry, Rodney. I really never meant to hurt you like this." With that he walked away and this time Rodney didn't call him back.

Instead, he stared at the progress bar. When he was done, there would be no way to restore any of this. Rodney leaned back and rubbed his stinging eyes. He was beat. Not only from the sex … which had been like … wow. He was emotionally drained and physically tired. It had all been so exhausting … the whole day, hell, the last few weeks. For a moment Rodney wished John still had his secret. Wished they'd still be in bed together, snuggling. He wished he'd never insisted on doing more exploring, that John had never touched that stupid piece of art.

When the laptop beeped at him, Rodney double checked that all of the data was indeed gone, then he cleaned up his workstation and went back to his quarters. He needed to lie down or he would collapse, really. And Rodney would pass up a concussion any day. Walking through the empty corridors of a sleeping city was surprisingly peaceful. It also gave him too much time to think. About the way John had kissed him, how he'd done exactly what Rodney had wanted, how he'd snuggled up to Rodney after. Rodney shuddered at the thought of how John had practically worshipped him with math. John had given Rodney the ZedPM formulas. And suddenly John not telling him that he was Tural wasn't important anymore. He'd given him what they'd been looking for since they'd come here. A way to recharge their depleted ZedPMs. Sure, he hadn't thought Rodney would remember all that so clearly … but he'd still said it.

Being in his quarters was a challenge on its own. The bed, the room still smelt of John and sex, and Rodney had to resist the urge to rip the sheets off the bed. The truth was, he was too tired to do that now. Instead, he opted for opening one of the windows and letting in the cool breeze of a New Lantean spring night.

Bone deep tired, Rodney sank onto the rumpled sheets and pulled off his shoes. He needed to sleep or Carson would restrict him to the infirmary for real. As if in a trance, Rodney changed and went through his nightly routine, his mind on the topic of John and sex and trust.

Would he really prefer to still be clueless? Would he really prefer to be in the dark about who John really was? But that would also mean not knowing just how far John was willing to go for him. It would mean never having felt the unfathomable love John held inside of him. Love for Rodney of all people, if John could be believed.

Which was really what it all came down to. Believing John. Trusting John. Forgiving John. Loving John.

Things that shouldn't be so incredibly easy, yet still were. Rodney realized that it was the truth. He loved, trusted, believed, and yes, part of him had already forgiven John. It wasn't such a hard thing to do when one looked at John's situation from the right angle.

_"There is so much I want to give you. So much I want to tell you but I just ... I can't. Not the way I'd really like to, anyway. But I'll do what I can, I promise."_ John, whose voice had been full of pain and regret. John, who had given Rodney so much already, who had gifted Rodney with the solution to two of the most dire problems of his whole career. The answers to two dire problems the whole Atlantis expedition currently faced.

Control crystals and ZedPMs.

Rodney sighed and got back up. He didn't bother getting dressed completely, just put on a fresh pair of trousers and slipped into his shoes without tying the laces. There was no way he could go to sleep. Not like this.

When he put his hand to the Ancient version of a bell, he didn't quite expect John's door to open immediately for him. Staggering inside, Rodney didn't know where to start and what to say. Instead, he just stared at John, who was standing in the middle of the room, looking at Rodney with a rather bewildered expression on his face. Like Rodney was the last person he had expected to come see him. Rodney immediately wished he'd just stayed in bed, tossing and turning. "I …" he started, and then stopped, unable to find the right words. "I don't know what to say, and I'm never lost for words," he complained. He watched John's eyes brighten at that. "You saved my life." A fact. They both knew it and John didn't say a word, he just nodded and sat down heavily on his tiny bed. "I was angry earlier, I say things when I'm angry that I don't entirely mean. And – to be fair – I think I had a right to freak out over this. But you're my friend … never mind who you were in a former life and I think you should know that I think that I love you, too." He looked at John expectantly. He wasn't sure what he'd wanted John to do, but sighing wasn't one of the possible reactions Rodney had considered.

"Rodney," John said, his voice so tired that Rodney felt awful for barging in like this. "You really shouldn't say that right now. Yes, I saved your life, but that doesn't mean you have to feel obligated to return my feelings. It's what we do, remember? Save each other's lives. You just found out something about me that – let's face it – changes everything. I really shouldn't have … I really shouldn't have done that. There's no excuse for my lack of control. I used to be so much better at that. If Chaya hadn't …" he trailed off and his expression was angry. "It doesn't matter," he continued tiredly. "You said you need some time and I kinda agree. Hell, I need some time to adjust. I'm all over the place right now."

The mention of Chaya's name really shouldn't have been like a red flag, not after so much time, but it was. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? What does Chaya have to do with anything right now?" Rodney asked heatedly. The anger still simmering just beneath the surface flared up again and he felt insanely jealous just from the memory. "This is about you and me, not about her. So what did she do that doesn't matter?" Rodney was fully awake now as adrenaline sped through his veins.

"It doesn't matter," John repeated and got up from the bed and opened the door by hand. "I really think you should go now"

Rodney didn't think about leaving. "Not before you tell me what happened. Before we met Chaya, I thought there was something between us, that we were close, that we had potential. Then, after you saw her for the first time, you backed off like mad. You barely looked at me for weeks after she was gone again. Come to think of it, you stopped touching people entirely. What did she do to you?" Rodney asked again, furious as he put together the pieces bit by bit on his own. John had shut the door halfway through Rodney's rant, a pained expression on his face. Rodney viewed that as a point for him in this … well, it wasn't really a quarrel – yet.

"Rodney," John pleaded, but Rodney didn't let him finish what was obviously going to be a 'get the hell out of here, now'.

"No, John, no. Just tell me."

When John looked at Rodney he was pale and tense, Rodney could see the muscles in his neck bunch up. "She manipulated me, focussed my feelings entirely on her. I guess her reasoning was that if she couldn't have me, no-one should. And especially not you."

"What?" Rodney asked, not sure if he had understood that properly. "What exactly are you saying?"

"She knew I was in love with you," John said. "But I … John couldn't take the chance at the time. The uniform code actually meant something to him. He loved flying too much to risk it." Rodney hated the way John was talking about himself in the third person and the laugh that accompanied John's words wasn't pretty. "But Chaya knew I was going to take that step. Uniform code or not. We don't love easily, Rodney, not at all. Things are difficult that way for us. We married for duty and procreation more than anything else. And look where that got us, we died out. Because that's what happened. Some ascended, others were killed, the rest just faded away. You people are so passionate." John closed his eyes and frowned as if realizing just now what he was saying, how he sounded. "Our people are so passionate," he repeated. "She's always wanted me. It was never about our parents, she thought she was in love with me, but I'm a better empath than she is and I know she really wasn't. She liked the way I looked, and wanted the status she could gain by marrying me. That's all it was and she couldn't let go."

Rodney was afraid to say anything, to break the spell. John had never been so open before. He didn't usually bare himself like that and Rodney found himself holding his breath.

"John couldn't take the risk. But I can," John said and met Rodney's eyes for the first time since he'd started talking.

Unable to stay silent any longer Rodney asked, "And who exactly are you?" A lot hinged on that question for Rodney.

John smiled, not the charming grin he used whenever he greeted the natives, or the one he had for his men, or the one he reserved for his team. No, he smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I'm John. I'm just a bit," he paused, obviously searching for the right words, "more now." He went back to his bed and sat down again. "You really should go now, Rodney. I wasn't kidding when I said I used to have more control over myself," he looked slightly sheepish at that.

"What if I don't want to go?" Rodney asked stubbornly. He hadn't even known that until it slipped past him and right out of his mouth. It was true though, Rodney didn't want to leave.

With a frown John opened the door again, this time he stayed seated though. "I told you, I don't want you to do this out of false gratitude"

Slapping a hand over the sensor to close the door again, Rodney glared at John. "Have you ever known me to do something out of gratitude? Or to make split second decisions? I've been in love with you for ages; I just never thought you felt the same for me. Not after … well, not after Chaya anyway. You surprised me at the outpost and I really don't deal well with surprises. And when I figured out that you'd lied to me I thought … I don't know what I thought! I just, I don't want to lose this now just because I was an idiot. Even if this," he waved awkwardly between them, unsure what to call it, "doesn't work out, you're still my best friend."

"You said you need time," John countered, but he sounded less sure and there was an expression of hope on his face, one Rodney had rarely seen before. "And I really can't fault you for that. You can have all the time in the world if you need it."

Exasperated Rodney threw his hands in the air. "You can stop pretending to be stupid now, John, I know you aren't. Also? I'm a genius. When others need weeks to think it over, I can easily do it in hours."

John laughed. "Really? Hours?"

"Really," Rodney repeated and went to sit down next to John. "So can we go back to my room now so I don't have to fall out of bed and break my back when we try to sleep in this child's bed?"

Groaning John sagged against Rodney, "I don't know what I was thinking when I chose it and figured it would do. It took team night for me to realize there were other sizes available but by then I was too stubborn to get a new one."

"What?" Rodney asked and blinked, totally lost as exhaustion settled back into his bones.

"Rodney, it really is a bed for children."

"You're kidding me," Rodney said, but he was already laughing.

"Nope, totally the truth," John admitted.

"You'll get a new bed as soon as possible, but for now let's get to my quarters and get some rest. It's been one hell of a day and Ancient or not, all good little Colonels should be in bed. Mine preferably since it's adult size at least. Chop, chop, I've been waiting ages to get you into my bed, you don't think I'm giving that up again, do you? Now come on. You look like you're about to keel over," Rodney said in a rush, feeling giddy with relief. He grabbed John's arm and barely suppressed the urge to drag him away. Rodney wouldn't let John – or himself – think too long about this, either of them might change their mind again after all. And Rodney really did need some sleep now. He felt exhausted again.

But he was also strangely happy. John would be there with him. That would be enough for tonight. The problems could wait until morning. Rodney watched as John grabbed his jacket and they went to Rodney's quarters in silence. Normally Rodney would have done his very best to fill it, but it was actually quite nice to walk shoulder to shoulder with John. He'd tried to keep it light. For John, for himself. Both of them had had enough of serious talk for now and Rodney couldn't bear a continuation of a talk like that. Even though he knew that they weren't quite done yet.

Locking the door behind them Rodney took off his shoes and his trousers and crawled into bed. When the bed didn't dip next to him Rodney turned around. John was standing at the foot of the bed, hugging himself and looking a little lost. "What are you waiting for? A written invitation? I'll send you an e-mail tomorrow if you really insist on it."

John smiled wanly. "No, I'm feeling just a little ... awkward, maybe? A few hours ago you couldn't even look me in the eyes properly and now you're inviting me into your bed again. Things have changed, Rodney. And I'm really worried we're making a mistake here. I'm really crap at all this love and relationship stuff. You mean so much to me and I've hurt you once already today, I don't want to mess this up," John said and he sounded so helpless and tired.

Rodney sighed. He knew as well as John that they hadn't solved any of their problems yet. There was a lot to work through still, but Rodney had reached his limit of what he could take in one day. "John, can't we just go to sleep, please? I can't take any more talking right now. Yes, I know things have changed. I know working things out between us won't be anywhere as easy as we both might want, but you know what? Right now I don't care. All I want to do is get into bed with you, curl up against you and pretend the last few hours didn't happen. Let's pretend we just went to sleep wrapped around each other, like normal couples do, alright?"

John looked thoughtfully at him for a moment before he finally agreed, "Yeah, I can do that." He quickly undressed until he, too, was only in his boxer shorts and t-shirt. Then he did as Rodney had asked him and slipped under the sheets, an arm sneaking around Rodney's middle. He looked at Rodney for a while, then chastely kissed him on the mouth. "Good night, Rodney," he said and closed his eyes.

"Good night," Rodney whispered, wiggling around until they were just right. Finally he could close his eyes and let sleep take him.

Ooo00O00ooO

Rodney woke slowly to the feeling of a warm body pressed up against him from behind. For a second he didn't know what to think of that, but then the memories of the past day came rushing back to him. John. Tural. ZedPM formulas. John saving Rodney's life. John trying to send him away. John shy and awkward and tired.

Huh.

Who would have thought that his first time having sex with John would lead to so many problems? Such huge revelations? That kind of thing had never happened when Rodney had fantasized about it.

Slowly, so as to not wake John, Rodney turned around to face his sleeping lover. As cliché as it sounded, John did look young and somehow vulnerable in sleep. What an irony. He had a ten thousand year old, powerful being in his bed and the man had the audacity to look like innocence personified. It so wasn't fair.

John was anything but innocent. John was ... John was an Ancient. Had been an Ancient. Rodney really wasn't sure what John was now, exactly. He wasn't ascended any more, like Chaya, but he wasn't human any more, either, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to do what he'd done in the outpost. Rodney would have to ask John about that. He'd have to ask John about a lot of things, actually.

Resisting the urge to brush a lock of hair away from John's forehead, Rodney thought about the situation he and John were in. He had promised John not to reveal who he was to anyone and Rodney had every intention to keep that promise. John's secret would be safe with Rodney.

All of John's secrets would be safe with Rodney. If John asked it of him, Rodney would even let someone else 'discover' how to make control crystals and Rodney knew he couldn't just simply show up with the knowledge of how to recharge a ZedPM, anyway.

Not that Rodney knew that ... yet. John had never finished the equation the night before and Rodney found he could wait. Just knowing that John knew and would share that knowledge with him eventually was enough.

John stirred, rubbing his face into the pillow slightly, tousling his hair even more. Until now Rodney had never believed that it did that kind of gravity defying thing on its own, but John seemed to have told the truth – his hair was standing up at impossible angles.

Somehow, Rodney thought it looked extremely sexy.

"Morning," John mumbled, his breath ghosting over Rodney's arm, his eyes still closed.

Rodney only ever got to see John waking up in the field. There he was up in a matter of minutes, wide awake and ready to face whatever was coming at them. Now all he did was shift closer to Rodney, his arm tightening around Rodney's waist even as a hand slipped underneath the t-shirt to caress bare skin. "Morning," Rodney answered as John buried his face in Rodney's neck. He could feel the smile on John's lips. "Sleep well?"

"Hmmm," John hummed, "yeah."

Yelping as John licked his neck, he pulled away a little. "What do you keep doing that for?"

"You taste nice," John said with an impish grin as he sat up on his side of the bed. Rodney was disappointed, he'd really liked snuggling. A lot. But John muttered something about 'tempting' and 'bathroom' and vanished into the adjoining room.

They passed each other, John going back to bed, Rodney using the head and Rodney felt that they were slowly working their way up on the awkward scale as they went. Rodney didn't know how to act around John. He still looked the same, but he wasn't the person Rodney had worked together with for the past few years anymore. What if John thought he was annoying now? What if this new … this John who was 'more' now figured that Rodney was less? When he'd taken as much time in the bathroom as he figured he could get away with reasonably, Rodney fidgeted and went back outside to find John sitting on the bed, facing the bathroom door.

"We need to talk, Rodney, we really, really need to talk. And I know how odd that sounds coming from me," John said seriously.

And for the second time while talking to John Rodney drew a blank. "I … uh … yes, yes we do," Rodney said, just to say something. "Need to talk that is. Talking is important. I heard that communication is the key for good relationships. So of course … talk." He stopped there from sheer embarrassment. John hadn't so much as moved, but he seemed to laugh on the inside at Rodney's predicament. "So talk," he demanded.

"Ask me," John simply said.

"What?" Rodney said, not sure how to take that. He fidgeted a bit, still exhausted from everything the day before. Then he huffed at his own ridiculousness and went to sit on the bed as well.

John shrugged. "Ask whatever you wanna know."

With a blink of surprise, Rodney turned to face John. Had he just heard that right or had John given him _carte blanche_ to ask anything he wanted to know? Suddenly there were so many questions in his head that he didn't know which one to ask first. "I ... I ..." He stammered, totally lost for words again. "I don't know where to start. There's so much I want to ask, so many things we've not figured out yet. But ... didn't you say you can't tell me stuff? I mean you said you wanted to tell me but couldn't. Did that change? I mean ... can you just go and spill all the secrets and let me in on all the tricks and all? No, no of course you can't. And I think I don't want to know. Or well, I want to know, you know I do, but I don't want to know if I can't tell anybody else what I know. To use it. And if you told me now I couldn't, could I?" Rodney stopped his rambling at the slightly amused look on John's face.

Oh, damn what had he done? What did John think of him now? He'd made a complete idiot of himself. John had to think he was stupid or something, passing up on a chance like that. And maybe Rodney really was stupid. No, not maybe. Compared to John, to this new John, Rodney most certainly was stupid.

"Rodney, stop worrying so much and relax. I'm still me. I'm still John, remember? I was just offering you something I thought you wanted. I'm offering to tell you about who I was. About Atlantis they way she was back then. About ... well everything I can reasonably talk about, really. What the hell has you so wound up?"

"I'm used to being more intelligent than you," Rodney blurted out and hated himself for saying that not a second after it had left his mouth. "You said yourself you're more, but I didn't change. I'm still the same annoying, arrogant person I've always been." And Rodney was terrified of what that meant for the two of them, their friendship, their budding relationship … everything. "What if we don't fit together anymore now that you've got those memories back?"

John sighed and turned around to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing Rodney fully. He caught one of Rodney's flailing hands and stroked it gently. "Rodney," he started, and Rodney's heart beat faster at the seriousness in John's voice. "I've always cared a lot for you. Loved you. You mean more to me than any other person I've ever met. I've never felt this way before."

"You were married," Rodney said, unable to help himself.

John nodded. "And I got divorced. I married Nancy because it was expected of me, not for passion. It's a flaw of my entire race, Rodney. And I'm still enough of an Ancient to have retained that." He hesitated; playing with Rodney's fingers like it was the most important thing to do. "Tural never even took a lover," he finally said and he sounded a bit embarrassed. "It just wasn't important at the time. Though, I might have eventually married just to spite Chaya."

Rodney's jaw dropped open at that revelation. "You've … Tural … never?" he asked haltingly.

Grinning at Rodney's reaction John shook his head, "Not even a kiss."

"Wow," Rodney said, completely awed at the magnitude of what John was telling him. His protestation of never having 'felt this way before' started to paint a picture for Rodney that he wasn't sure he liked. Sure, he felt incredibly special all of a sudden, but he also felt … very sad for John. "Didn't you ever miss it? The closeness? The contact?"

"No." He shook his head slowly. "Never. We touched, that was enough."

Rodney snorted. "You're not exactly the touchy-feely kind of guy, John. No offense, but I can count the times you voluntarily touched anybody without going into triple-digits."

"It changed, after Chaya. She did something unspeakable to me, Rodney, something that left me starved for human contact. Under normal circumstances, this would be a case to bring to the Council. She wouldn't be given another opportunity to do harm after that," John explained, his voice entirely empty of emotion, but Rodney could see the anger burning in John's eyes. He didn't even want to know what John wanted to do to Chaya, he was sure it wouldn't be pretty. "Three years, Rodney," he suddenly said and he sounded desperate. "She had me enthralled for three years and I feel like a prisoner in my own skin. It's what makes controlling myself around you so damn hard. All I want is to reach out and touch you and I can't … help myself. It happens at the most inappropriate moments, too."

It took a bit for Rodney to realize that John's speech pattern had changed, that he sounded far more stilted and careful again than he'd done before. But it wasn't as creepy as Rodney had thought it would be. They were talking about the past and it seemed … natural that John would change when looking back on his life as Tural. Rodney watched John as he bit his lower lip, like he usually did when he was trying to work up to say something especially painful for him. John's eyes were on their entwined hands and now that Rodney knew, he could see John quivering with the effort of staying where he was. Startled, Rodney realized what kind of torture he was subjecting John to and pulled him closer. "Oh, come here," he muttered, lying back down with John practically on top of him. "No one's here, touch all you want."

With a muffled moan John buried his head in Rodney's shoulders, his free hand slipping underneath the hem of Rodney's t-shirt. Skin on skin. Gradually he relaxed against Rodney, sighing contently now and then. "Thanks," John finally said, "you have no idea how much I need that."

"You should have said something earlier." He really should have, Rodney would never let John suffer like that if he'd known … John had walked out on him last night, after their quarrel and only now Rodney realized what kind of sacrifice John had made for him. John had just left, giving Rodney room. Had offered Rodney all the time he needed. Had implied he'd keep his distance until Rodney had worked through it. And suddenly Rodney understood that John would have waited forever if he'd have had to. John would rather torture himself by staying away than pressure Rodney.

John shook his head and his hair tickled Rodney's chin. "No, I couldn't."

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, both content to be entwined with each other, to feel each other's heart beat, breathing together.

"What are we going to do now?" Rodney asked after a while. There had been enough talk about the past. John could tell him all that later, he didn't need to share everything at once. "I mean, the uniform code didn't go away and you're still Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, no matter how much you changed."

With a chuckle, John moved back, looked at Rodney and shrugged. "I don't care," he said. "By the time I was born, my people had moved past petty superficiality and it's hard for me to integrate the two mindsets. I just know one thing, if there is ever a choice between keeping my secret and staying with you, I'll pick you. Nobody can separate us if I have any say on the matter, and believe me, I do." There was a dangerous light in John's eyes and the words sounded like a promise in Rodney's ears. "I may not have my full powers, but I'm not helpless either. The uniform code means nothing to me, and you know as well as I do that the SGC is more open-minded. It might never become an issue."

Rodney thought of Caldwell. Of the brass at the Pentagon. He thought of how hard Elizabeth had had to fight to keep John. And how he'd finally been accepted as the best man to stay in command of the military on Atlantis. There was no telling what would happen if they figured out John didn't just get Tural's memories in a rather hazy way. For John's sake, he hoped they never had to test the open-mindedness of the SGC. Rodney nodded, "Yeah, you're right." He was just about to say something else when his stomach grumbled loudly.

"I think breakfast is in order," John said and untangled himself rather reluctantly.

Rodney sighed. He really didn't want to leave the room, didn't want to share John with the rest of Atlantis just yet. But he also knew that his hypoglycaemia would soon begin to be a problem. "I guess you're right," Rodney reluctantly agreed, sitting upright.

John had been in the process of getting up from the bed but hesitated now, turning back around to look at Rodney critically. "What's the matter, Rodney? You're usually quite happy to get something to eat. Is anything wrong?"

Rodney sighed again, unsure what to answer. It would sound so childish to say it out loud. "You'll think it's stupid if I tell you," Rodney said, avoiding John's searching look.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, Rodney? Nothing you've said or done lately has been stupid. So come on, tell me."

"I just don't want to go out there right now," Rodney suddenly said, the words spilling out even though he'd really tried to keep them inside. He was so good at keeping secrets, but somehow he couldn't seem to keep his thoughts on the inside while talking to John. It was disturbing. "We're finally getting somewhere and I don't want to … share you, I guess," he went on, raising his chin, daring John to mock him.

"There will be no sharing," John said. "My kind doesn't do that sort of thing."

"That's not what I …" Rodney started, but John was right in front of him with just a few steps, his arms coming up around Rodney's shoulders, pulling him into a searing kiss.

"I know," John whispered against Rodney's lips when they parted again. "But we've got a day of downtime and we're just going to breakfast. Today, I'm all yours."

Rodney smiled, "Under that condition breakfast is acceptable."

The end.

**Continue reading by going to the next chapter to read: _Total Recall 4 - Dark Clouds on the Horizon_**

* * *

**Cassandra's Author Notes:** This part took us … two and a half days or so from concept discussion to the last edit. To say it was a rush would be the understatement of the year. I think Mel and I are working better together now than before, if that's even possible. I'm now at a point where I can admit that I'm hopelessly in love with this universe and I _might_ act like an enthusiastic five year old now or then. We both are, though. There's a lot of squeeing involved, by both of us. Just thought I'd point that out.

**Melinda's Author Notes:** This is insane. Like really, really insane. We've made ourselves at home in this universe so fast, it has my head spinning. And okay, yes, I'm kinda in love with this universe as well. But I am not as bad as my sis. Honestly *wink* I'm not …yet.


	4. Dark clouds on the horizon

**Title:** Dark clouds on the horizon**  
Author:** ca_pierson and darkmoore05**  
Beta:** neevebrody on livejournal**  
Fandom:** Stargate Atlantis**  
Pairing:** McKay/Sheppard**  
Rating:** PG-13**  
Word count:** 7.805**  
Genre:** AU**  
Disclaimer:** Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to us, neither do the characters. This is a transformative work and we aren't making any money from it.**  
Author's Notes:** Thank you, neevebrody for the quick beta! It's a pleasure to work with you.

**Summary:** Covering one's tracks can be a hassle. Especially with a surprise visitor John would rather had stayed the hell away.

* * *

**Total Recall 4 - Dark clouds on the horizon**

**by Melinda and Cassandra Pierson**

It was incredible what a day off with lots of sex and even more touching could do. John hadn't felt this at home in his skin in years. Still, the thought of sitting next to Rodney and yet being unable to touch made the upcoming meeting more than just a boring event. It made it torturous as well. Boring because the meeting was mainly about the last mission and aside from Rodney and himself, nobody could know the truth anyway so what was the point? Uncomfortable because, yes, he might be slightly sore and sitting for so long would be a bit challenging, which was unfortunate and wonderful all at the same time. He could have healed himself, after all, but he didn't want to, he wanted to feel it, wanted to have at least that, if he couldn't even look at Rodney the way he wanted to. Torturous because Rodney would be there, so close and yet out of reach.

John sighed. Rodney had been very firm about flying under the radar to protect John. It was heartening how much more Rodney cared about John's career than he himself did. Now, still feeling their lovemaking, John just wanted to crawl back into bed and curl up around Rodney. Instead, he focused on the people who were gathering in the conference room.

"The data Rodney collected on the outpost is gone," Radek said the moment he entered the room, his hair more tousled than normal, like he'd been pulling on it repeatedly. "Gone – all of it. The hard drive on the laptop was empty and the scanner pristine, like new."

Cursing silently, John plastered a confused expression on his face. Of course, Radek would notice. Risking a glance out of the corner of his eye, John had to admit that Rodney was a better actor than John had ever given him credit for.

"It is?" Rodney asked, his whole body language saying 'oh my god, that can't be true'. It was very disturbing considering how honest Rodney usually was. "What have you tried to get it back?"

John didn't even try to keep track of the technological jargon being thrown around by the two scientists with Carter butting in ever so often. It was easy to forget that Carter wasn't just military, she was a scientist as well. She really could hold her own against both Radek and Rodney. It was kinda fun to watch.

"… that's really rather weird. When we left, there was a second energy spike. I remember seeing it on the scanner. No idea what it was doing, maybe some part of the self-defense system that deleted our data," Rodney was just concluding his side of a rather heated argument when John tuned back in. He didn't really know what else had been said, nor did he care. There was no way John could add anything on the subject without raising suspicion anyway. What he did care about was that even though Radek looked upset and Carter looked immensely disappointed, they appeared to buy Rodney's explanation without too much fuss.

"We should go back, try and download the data again, without triggering defense system," Radek was saying, sending a pleading look in John's direction. "Might be important, if system reacted violently."

John wanted to laugh at that, he really did. If the facility had been one of the top secret ones with the interesting stuff, John didn't think they would have found it in the first place. The self-defense mechanism wasn't part of every outpost; it had been an ongoing project to outfit them. Unfinished by the time they'd fled..

"What I saw of it wasn't important. There was a lot of information on farming and I'm sure our agricultural experts and the botanists would have had a field day with it. However, I'm fairly sure the same information will be in our own database. I don't see why we should put ourselves at risk by going back," Rodney argued, his mouth pressed into a thin line. John wanted to lean over and kiss the pinched expression from Rodney's face. "I'm sure Sheppard will agree with me on that."

Instead of agreeing – and John really wanted to agree with Rodney for so many different reasons he couldn't even pick his favorite – John shrugged and kept his answer deliberately vague. "I don't think it's a good idea to go back, either. But I guess if we're very careful and don't touch the military stuff …"

"Military data was protected, yes? Then must be important," Radek interrupted, apparently at the end of his patience. "Self defense system is obviously malfunctioning or Rodney would not be here now. Maybe the installation wasn't completed on that outpost before Ancients went back to Earth. And even if we cannot access military data, there is still the other information. What the outpost was for, maybe data about technology and you said there was agricultural information. Worth going."

It did sound reasonable for anyone without further knowledge. Even Rodney gave a half-nod and John instantly wished their question and answer session yesterday had included the utter uselessness of some of the outposts scattered around the galaxy. Agricultural outposts never had any of the important research data. If they were lucky, the level of information matched that in the Atlantis databases. If they weren't, it was even more outdated and there was no point in going back.

"I wouldn't mind going myself," Radek said at that moment with a pitying glance at Rodney, like he was going to break down any minute. "I'm sure Major Lorne and his team would take me, if Rodney does not want to go back. Would be completely understandable, not going back," Radek added quickly at a glare from Rodney, but John saw Radek swallow and he looked everything but happy at the offer. Radek hated going off world, but he'd go, for Rodney. It made John feel incredibly proud of the scientist.

"No," was John's immediate gut reaction to that, earning him funny looks all around. Even from Teyla and Ronon who had been remarkably quiet up to now. "This was our mission and if anyone goes back, it'll be us." The look of reproach on Ronon's face could easily be mistaken as murderous rage, but John knew him too well to misinterpret. They'd already established that those two days had been the most boring and useless of all boring and useless days spent on missions ever in Ronon's opinion. Practically volunteering them for a retake wasn't going to win John any favors with the part of the team that didn't know what Radek would have found in the logs and scans if he'd gone. Damning himself, John wished he'd taken the moment to delete everything that showed his interference at the outpost. Sometimes, his own stupidity was quite remarkable. "No telling how long it'll take to get into the system though or if we can do it at all. And I still think it's too dangerous to risk doing that again, but we could at least grab all the other data from the outpost. That should be worth something to us as well, right?" He willed Rodney to pick up on the undercurrent, but Rodney just looked at him with the frowny face John was sure meant that Rodney was holding back remarks about the number of John's brain cells. "Right?" he asked again, a little desperately.

Rodney met his eyes for a moment, then seemed to catch on and nodded once, "Right."

If Ronon didn't kill John next time they sparred, Rodney might throttle him when they were alone again. Of course, Rodney thought he would have to do most of the work, which wasn't John's intention at all. After all, John had some previous experience with outpost systems. If it took John an hour to copy everything, he'd lost his touch.

"Well, gear up then," Carter said. It had never crossed John's mind that they'd leave right then and there. "You have a go. John's right, we shouldn't risk it. I want you to leave the military data alone." Carter obviously wanted the military data as much as Radek. She just wasn't prepared to sacrifice someone for it. Neither was Radek, by the look of relief on his face

John heaved a sigh, hiding it by getting up and being the first to leave. There were so many things he'd have rather gone back to, right then. But well. Whatever it took.

Ooo00O00ooO

"What the hell?" Rodney hissed when they were far enough away from Teyla and Ronon, who had stayed behind by the 'gate. John had tried to leave them on Atlantis because it would only be a short trip. But Teyla had just looked at him in her serious way and said that Ronon and she could guard the Stargate while Rodney and John retrieved the data. It had made sense at the time. "Why didn't you back me up?" he asked, clearly upset.

"I couldn't, Rodney, can't you see that? If I were in their place, knowing only what they know, I'd have wanted to come back here as well. You know I couldn't tell them that the data's not really worth it," John tried to explain, but the expression on Rodney's face made him think he wasn't quite managing. "We go in, you connect the laptop and let me do the rest, that's all. If this takes an hour I'll be surprised."

"It's not as easy as it looks and you can't make me work faster by …" Rodney started, then stopped himself with a funny look in John's direction. "I see," he finally said.

John stopped and put a hand on Rodney's shoulder, holding him back. "Is this going to be a problem?" he asked and at Rodney's perplexed expression he pulled Rodney closer, mindful of the P-90s clipped to their tac vests. "Is it going to be a problem that I can do these things? That my Ancient is better than yours and that I can work the system faster than you can?"

Rodney made a derogative sound and glared at John for all he was worth. "No, you moron. The problem is that we could have made sure no one came back here just by saying that it was too dangerous and next time someone could die. We don't need to be here." And John could hear the unspoken _'and you should have backed me up'_ only too clearly at the end of that sentence. "It wasn't hmpf …"

John kissed Rodney. Not only to shut him up, but because he missed it and because he'd wanted to undress Rodney, slowly, and rub himself against all that warm skin since he'd first sat down in the conference room. Thoughts like that carried the kiss on longer than John had intended and he let go of Rodney reluctantly. "My name is in the log," John said when they parted. "Yes, the defenses are volatile and utterly stupid, but they're also unreliable and if someone else comes here and figures out that I'm around then people would start hunting me. For whatever purpose. And that doesn't sound like a good thing to me." He kissed Rodney again, his tongue running over Rodney's lips briefly, before he pulled back. "And, boring or not, you want that information just as much as Radek or Carter do."

At that, Rodney blushed. "Yeah, alright, so I wouldn't mind having that data, doesn't mean I absolutely have to have it," Rodney muttered, conceding the point in typical fashion.

They did however start walking again, side by side, their shoulders touching, and John was glad the strained silence between them made way to a more companionable one. He really hated it when Rodney was angry with him. The outpost hadn't changed since they'd been there last and connecting the console to the laptop again was the work of a minute. Rodney was already finished with that part of it while John was still looking for anything that would show how Rodney had nearly died and then been revived by John's powers. With Rodney standing next to him, looking over his shoulder at what he was doing, John finished the deletion, then started the transfer of the data. For all the trouble it had given them, he hoped it would make Radek and Carter happy at least.

"So," Rodney said once John's hands had stilled on the console. It came out sounding strangely hesitant and John turned to him, waiting for him to continue.

When Rodney just stared at him mutely, John smiled and asked, "So?" He watched as Rodney's tongue peeked out, moistening his lips and he couldn't help staring back.

"What now?"

John frowned. "Well, we wait for the data transfer to finish and–" Then Rodney was there, pressing him against the edge of the console, his lips on John's, hands on John's hips. John moaned into Rodney's mouth, his hands drifting up to cup Rodney's ass.

"That sounds … boring," Rodney said when they came up for air, "I thought you hated waiting?" And there was a mischievous glint in Rodney's eyes that made John's whole body tingle in anticipation. He loved it when Rodney was like this, confident and possessive.

"I hate waiting," John agreed breathlessly, rubbing circles on the small of Rodney's back with one hand. "Wasted time and all …" his words were cut short when Rodney started nibbling on the sensitive skin of John's neck and all he could do was groan. "Rodney," he muttered and he wanted to ask him to stop, say that they shouldn't do this off world, but what came out was "don't stop" in a broken voice that John barely recognized as his own.

"I'd love nothing more than to bend you over this console and fuck you right here and now," Rodney murmured against John's skin.

"Then, why don't you?" John asked, breath catching in his throat, beyond caring what he sounded like or if they should have sex during a mission.

"No lube. And way too messy. Can't risk coming back from a mission smelling of sex. That'd raise all kind of questions I really don't want to answer," Rodney replied, regret coloring his voice. He reached down and rubbed his hand over the bulge in John's pants and John hissed, tempted to tell Rodney he didn't care. Tempted to tell him that he was an Ancient, he could get them lube and clean them up in a way no one would notice they'd had sex.

But that just wouldn't do. This was still too new, too intense, too raw to rush through. He wanted to bask in the closeness, wanted to smell Rodney on his skin while they were lying in a tangled heap. Wanted to taste himself on Rodney's skin when they'd recovered enough for another round of languid lovemaking. This just wouldn't do for now. Not if he had to wipe all traces of what they'd been doing immediately after. "I know," John said instead, and by the way Rodney's eyes darkened with desire John knew he'd heard the 'I don't care' in the tone of John's voice anyway.

"John," Rodney muttered, arching into John's body, rubbing himself against John's hips in a manner that drove John out of his mind.

_Beep_.

They practically leapt apart, Rodney stumbling in his haste to get away from John and ending up on his ass. "Ow." He just lay there for a stunned moment, then said, rather weakly, "I think I broke something."

John's heart was still racing from the scare as he knelt next to Rodney, running his hands over the body spread out before him. "No, but you'd bruise spectacularly," he answered, grinning like an idiot even as he healed the injured area. "Come on, let's get back home, I can't wait for you to bend me over your desk and fuck me," he teased and held out his hand to help Rodney up. The smoldering look of promise put a bounce into his step all the way back to the 'gate.

Ooo00O00ooO

"Come on, Rodney, I've gotta show you something," John wheedled, knowing full well that Rodney couldn't say 'no' to that tone of voice. It was why he kept it for times of need, like when he wanted to get Rodney out of the lab early.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "What is so important that it can't wait till later?"

John grinned at that, but wasn't surprised when Rodney kept following him instead of going his own way. Times like this, it hit him just how much he loved Rodney and John had to swallow around the intensity of the feeling. "Because I'll have to hack the database later and the more I mess around in it, the easier my manipulations can be detected. So you'll either have to come see it now or you can wait until everybody knows who I really am."

"You're going to what?" Rodney asked, his eyes widening.

John laughed; he liked it when he could make Rodney go bug-eyed with outrage. "You heard me." He opened the door ahead of them, then grabbed Rodney's hand after checking that they were alone.

Rodney rolled his eyes and turned to John, whining, "I know the hologram room, John, there's nothing here that I'd like to see." But John ignored him completely and pulled him into the room, closing and locking the door behind them. He pressed Rodney against the door, his hands slipping easily underneath the shirt and just looked at him. Rodney sighed. "Alright. Go on. Show me," he said.

Grinning, John stepped onto the platform and when he put his hands on the panel, it lit up as it was supposed to, but instead of the usual interface, John looked back at them. Well, not John. "Commander Tural Nah," the hologram said calmly with John's voice after a moment of absolute stillness.

Rodney blinked and opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Looking between John and the hologram almost helplessly, he stared, obviously trying to find differences. There was no doubt he found the whole thing highly disturbing. Tural was wearing something unassuming and white, the total opposite of what John usually favored, but his face … Rodney was still staring when he came closer, stepping onto the platform beside John. He half-turned towards John, his hand coming up to cup John's face for a moment , thumb mapping the only real difference John himself could see – and remember – was the short cut of Tural's hair. Otherwise, they were exactly the same. Genetically there wasn't a lot that was separating them, anyway. It was strange for John to watch Rodney stare at the two of them in turn, his look somewhere between intrigued and disturbed. "This," Rodney finally muttered, stepping up to John, "could be a problem."

"Ya think?" John asked laughingly, enjoying the glare Rodney gave him too much. "I'm just glad no-one asked me for my surname and looked me up in the database before. I had a rather common name. There should be hundreds of entries. Unless someone stumbled over the picture they wouldn't know for sure." The hologram room didn't draw energy from the Atlantis power grid; John was taking a leaf out of Morgan Le Fay's book and powered it himself. No one would realize they had even been here. "I'm going to lock my file on a command level. No one will be able to open it again until I reverse it. Personal data, career, pictures, it'll all be classified," John explained with Rodney looking on avidly.

"Won't that look odd, though?" Rodney asked nervously, glancing around like he expected someone to jump out of the shadows at any second to catch them red-handed. "We've yet to come across a file we couldn't access."

John scrunched his face up in thought. "No. There are over a thousand locked files in the database if not more. They just won't show up at all unless you've got the clearance to look for them in the first place." It was ridiculously easy to get into Atlantis systems, not surprising, considering his security level. Hacking the systems of Atlantis that the expedition used to connect their own equipment and changed subtly to suit their needs was harder. Still, while Rodney stood next to him, muttering comments now or then and one spectacular 'no no no', John did quite well. When he was done, the hologram faded away and John heaved a sigh of relief. One less problem he'd have to worry about. "We're done here," he said and allowed himself a long look over Rodney's body. "I think we're both off-duty now."

Rodney looked at him, heat in his eyes and they were drifting closer together when John felt a disturbance in the air around them. He instantly pushed Rodney behind him, forcing him further towards the door. There was no time to warn Rodney before a glimmer of light came together in the middle of the room, the hologram activating, cycling through the profiles so quickly the figures were nothing but a blur, until Chaya stood before them.

"Tural," Chaya said, probably trying for seductive and missing the mark my miles. She didn't even look at Rodney.

Chaya's serene beauty hadn't worked on John the way she'd wanted until she'd nudged him that way and now it worked even less. John's dislike flared up as soon as he caught sight of her. In all his long existence, John had never felt so … angry. It ran through him like a hot wave until he felt he was literally glowing with it. "Chaya," he said coldly, hoping his voice conveyed exactly what he thought of her. "I was hoping you'd know better than to show up here."

Instead of doing the sensible thing and leaving, Chaya smiled brilliantly at him and said, "We are destined to be together."

Like that explained her presence on Atlantis perfectly well. It probably did, in the twisted thought process going on inside her head. But John didn't even want to think about it, never mind delve deeper into her madness. It was enough that her presence was polluting the very air he was breathing. John wondered if she'd even heard what he'd said. "Bullshit," he finally growled. "If either of us have a destiny, then yours is to stay as far away from me as possible. Preferably at the other end of the universe. I'd really like it if you took yourself there right now." He pretended to be thinking. "Oh, but I forgot… you're shackled to Proculus, forced to protect the people there for the next … what was it again? Oh yes, another two generations or so. Almost done, huh? Pity they didn't sentence you to stay there indefinitely. You know, keep you on Proculus until you see reason. That would mean you'd have to stay there even if the people die out. I'd have loved to see you, forced to stay on an empty, cooling rock of dirt. Funny what a moment of pretending to care can do to you, isn't it? I'm sure by now you're wishing you hadn't answered their prayer-like pleas." He knew he'd hit her low, but he was so angry and the flush on Chaya's face from the verbal rebuke was balm to him. "You're nothing to me, Chaya. I never cared for you and I will never be with you. Never. You can stop trying."

For a moment, he thought she'd leave, her confused, hurt expression and the fading of the light a tell-tale sign. She'd never enjoyed confrontations, something he'd exploited quite a few times over their acquaintance. But then Chaya solidified again, a smile returning to her face. He wanted to wipe it off with a punch.

"Now, Tural, don't be like that," she reached out to him, as if she wanted to touch him, but John didn't back away, knowing Chaya couldn't actually move away from the hologram projector field. "Come to me, come with me, become what you were always supposed to be. My offer still stands. You could be my mate. The people of Proculus will hail you as a god where they cannot do that for me. I'll help you ascend and you can take your rightful place by my side. We will be magnificent together."

John took a sharp breath at her words, repulsed by the mere thought, then he collected himself and stepped into her direction, getting some space between himself and Rodney. If he had to defend himself, John would need some distance. Chaya suddenly smiled, most likely thinking he was actually joining her. Feeling his neutral expression slip, he saw Chaya's confusion, then her fear as she recognized the danger. He wasn't even trying to shield his emotions, she might as well know how distasteful the whole thing was for him. Maybe she'd reconsider her actions then, but John wasn't too hopeful of that. "No," he said firmly, "leave now."

It was scary how quickly Chaya changed from afraid to aggressive and John had to suppress a flinch as her face contorted with rage. "I will not be sent away like that," she hissed. "If you don't come with me I will make sure your little humans find out who you really are. I know you don't want that. We will rule over both Proculus and Atlantis together, like king and queen. You and me. Reconsider your decision, before you regret it." Chaya's eyes went to the console. The bitch had probably spied on them while they'd been locking his profile in the database.

John felt himself tense, ready for a fight, knowing if she didn't leave soon, there would be violence and he needed to protect Rodney. "Atlantis is mine," he said with forced calm, using the ritual words of their kind, "and I bid you to go."

"And I refuse," Chaya answered serenely.

Unimaginable hatred burned through John at the pleased expression on her face, at the smugness he could feel coming off of her in huge waves. Chaya wanted him for his potential of ascension more than anything else. Of course she wasn't about to share her full plans with him, but John could very well imagine the thought behind the idea. Being married to John – an ascended John – would help her regain her standing with their peers. It would automatically become his responsibility to leash her more questionable views, giving her a freedom she hadn't known for a long, long time.

They both knew Chaya didn't love him that she just wanted a way out, wanted to shackle him to her in ways that were irreversible and would free her. His hatred must have been strong enough for even Chaya and her limited empathy to pick up, because she leaned away from him as far as she could, her eyes widening in fear. "Atlantis is mine, Chaya. Mine. My responsibility, mine to hold, mine to protect. You have no business here." His voice was quiet even though he was angry to a point where he felt like it was about to explode out of him. "If you return again I won't hold back the urge to destroy you. As is my right by ancient law," he informed her coldly. "You know the rules as well as I do. They are older than you and I. As long as I'm part of the human world and you are tied to Proculus, you have to obey the old laws." His reminder came out neutral, but the threat was inherent to his words and he saw that she finally realized she was treading on thin ice.

Maybe her long imprisonment on Proculus really had unhinged Chaya, though, because she recovered quickly. She laughed haughtily, looking him up and down in a way that made John feel like a stud animal. "You don't have the power to do that, Tural, you're just a human right now. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Wrong," he said, unable to hide his satisfaction at her miscalculation, "I guess you didn't get the memo. With my job came a certain amount of power. More than you would think. Not that the old laws depend on that, as you've so conveniently forgotten. Never darken my doorstep again, Chaya." He didn't bother to threaten her life, he knew he couldn't destroy her unless he invoked the old laws. And even then the Ancients didn't like killing one of their own. But descending her was a possibility. She could live out the rest of her life somewhere, unaware of what she was. Sane, hopefully. While John had never liked her, she had been a deluded, but nice person once. That part of her deserved to live.

Still, she didn't give up and leave. No, she had to try and plead, "Don't be like this. We can still be great together. Once your little … plaything," and she had the temerity to look at Rodney when she said that, "has passed away in his natural life-span."

John was sure he had already reached the pinnacle of hate he could have for her, but apparently, he had been mistaken. "No." It was as much a denial of her proposal as a denial of Rodney's mortality. "I'd rather die than ascend for you."

"How dare you?" Chaya spat, the sudden rage visible on her face and palpable in the air around her. "You will be so very sorry for this, Tural. I wonder if it will bother you greatly if your little human here doesn't survive the day." John's heart missed a beat at that threat. When she turned her focus on Rodney, John was ready for it, pulling the energy around them not unlike a shield. Chaya stretched her arms out toward them and John tensed in anticipation for a blow that never happened.

"You've overstepped your boundaries, Chaya Sar," a voice boomed through the room, as a man suddenly materialized, glowing as brightly as only ascended beings did. John couldn't help but feel utterly relieved as he recognized Oniph. He wouldn't have to deal with Chaya – Oniph would. "You were forbidden to interfere with Tural's mission and yet, you have. Twice. There will be no more attempts at diverting him, Chaya. For this infraction we sentence you to be shackled tighter to Proculus, you will not be able to leave the planet during your punishment." The gaze of the sandy-haired Ancient took in the whole room, stopping briefly on Rodney, who was still sheltered behind John. Then he turned back to Chaya, cocking his head. "As it is, for offering Tural to rule Proculus at your side as a god, your punishment will be extended by fifteen generations. Threatening the human Tural has become attached to shall add another five generations to your punishment," Oniph said, turning to John with a half-smile. "We hope you find this acceptable, Tural," he said and nodded at John, but didn't wait for an answer; he vanished and he took Chaya with him.

"Plaything?" Rodney chose the moment when John was just relaxing again to ask that question of course.

Slumping against the closest wall, John shuddered. In his wildest dreams, he hadn't thought Chaya would come here and try again, not after their last confrontation on Proculus. "I told you, she's crazy," he muttered, sending silent thanks to Oniph for interfering. John didn't think the Ancient would hear him, but it couldn't hurt to use some positive re-enforcement on the group assigned to protect him – just in case.

"John," Rodney said and when John turned to him and looked at him, Rodney continued, "what did she want? I'm not stupid, I know there was more going on than was being said."

"She's imprisoned on Proculus," John said, deciding it would be best to start at the beginning.

"Yes, for saving the inhabitants of that planet because she's lived there before, I know all that," Rodney interjected, impatient for John to continue.

But John shook his head tiredly. "That's what she tells people. It's only partly true anyway. Yes, ascended beings aren't supposed to interfere with those living on this plane and the punishment can be quite severe. But Chaya didn't interfere to protect, she did it because the people of Proculus knew her from before, and they prayed to her. Accepting the power that gave her, that's why she was punished. They," John said strongly, "didn't want to harbor someone among us with an Ori mindset, but were reluctant to act." He managed to look at Rodney again, reaching out for his hand. Somehow, he felt more grounded for the touch and he needed that to get through the story. "I agreed, partly because Chaya has always made trouble for me and never got called on it. But also, because she was becoming crazier by the century and her views were rather radical. They scared me. Scared the others, too."

"Proculus was your idea," Rodney said, and it wasn't a question.

John nodded. "Yeah. It was my idea." One he'd never regretted, not even now, seeing what her imprisonment had done to her. She'd always been a bit on the mad side, the extra crazy would have come eventually. "The infraction wasn't bad enough to destroy her, so I figured she might as well be useful and protect the planet."

With a snort, Rodney interrupted again. "Not that it helps a lot, she wouldn't even protect us if we needed it."

"I know." He still felt the disappointment at the idiocy of the rules the others had imposed on Chaya. What good was a sanctuary if she couldn't take on any of the people who were fleeing from the Wraith? What good was her protection if there was a Space 'gate keeping others away? "I pointed that out to them, but … stupid people, stupid rules," he muttered, knowing Rodney would get it. "She's been there for a long time now. A couple of thousand years, actually. She'd have been free in another two generations." John couldn't help but feel glad about putting that off. A thousand years from now, Chayas hatred for him might force him to defend himself, force him to destroy her. John didn't know what it said about him, but he was looking forward to it.

Rodney's expression was thoughtful for a moment, before he asked, "Who was the other guy? The one who took her? I take it it's someone you know?" There was something in Rodney's eyes John couldn't quite decipher, but he held himself back from just lowering his shields and taking a peek at what Rodney was thinking. It would be a violation of Rodney's privacy and was something John just wouldn't do. He would rely on the emotions and questions Rodney voiced, like everyone else.

Instead of prying, John answered, "Yes, I know him. He's a friend of mine. Oniph. He's one of those who think that we should take responsibility for what we've done in the past. I'm pretty sure you'd like him, he certainly seems to like you. Oniph isn't usually one to believe in love and commitment. That he acknowledged that I have become 'attached to' you is pretty much his way of saying he approves of you."

"Oh, wow. I mean … I think that's … He saved my life, didn't he? I mean I know you wouldn't have let her hurt me, but still. Wow," Rodney said, sounding more out of it than John really liked.

"No, Rodney, I wouldn't have let her hurt you," John replied with a little more bite than he'd meant to and then sighed. "Look, Rodney, can we please not have this discussion right here? Chaya's residual energy is making my skin crawl and I'd rather have this talk somewhere I can hold you in my arms, alright? I think I need a hug," John said, his voice a mixture of irritation and whining, hoping Rodney would understand.

"Alright, alright," Rodney replied, "But I demand a full explanation of what the hell was happened here just a few minutes ago. You people are creepy!"

"I'm mostly human now, Rodney," John reminded him gently, even though it was just barely the truth. Yes, he was slightly more human than … energy, but that was just because it was necessary and not because John enjoyed it so much. But it was the price he paid for being outside the rules. John knew he would never be able to do what he had done and planned to do in the future, had he been outright ascended.

They spent the way to Rodney's quarters in silence and John was glad for it. The confrontation had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit. This body, this still so very human body didn't deal with energy anywhere as well as John wished it did. Once the doors had closed behind them John went straight to the bed and sat down heavily, took off his boots and lay back with a sigh.

"So what was that all about?" Rodney asked, standing at the foot end of the bed, his arms crossed. He looked scared and John couldn't blame him. John had been scared and he'd actually understood the undercurrents. "I get that Chaya was offering you something really big and that you hate her, but you got awfully territorial and …" he trailed off.

John shifted so he was lying lengthwise in the bed and patted the empty space next to him in invitation. For a moment, Rodney didn't move, but then he took off his own boots and joined John. They wrapped their arms around each other and John could feel the last bit of tension go out of him. "It's part of what I'm supposed to do here. We knew the humans would find Atlantis at some point. For me, there was never a doubt about it. You're clever and nosy and like children stumbling blindly around the universe, getting into things that are too dangerous to handle, so naturally you'd find Atlantis. And with Atlantis you'd stumble over the Wraith and eventually you'd find the Ori," John said, staring at the ceiling blankly while Rodney's arm tightened over his chest. "My mission is to hold Atlantis. Against anybody who threatens her. To protect the people we left behind when we ascended." John turned towards Rodney, searching his blue eyes for understanding. "We didn't know for sure when you'd come to Atlantis, but our projections were between twenty and forty years."

"Why protect us? Why not any of the other people here in Pegasus?" Rodney asked.

John rubbed his cheek against Rodney's, pulling strength from the simple touch, a measure of comfort he'd never experienced before. "Them, too, but they aren't our descendants; Atlantis wouldn't have awoken for them like she did for you. We seeded life on the planets here, like we seeded it all over the universe, wherever we could reach. But Earth … Earth was always our … no, their home." John had been born in Pegasus, had been more at home here than ever on Earth. A feeling that had never left him, even bleeding into his new life as John Sheppard. "I'm here to protect the people we created, to protect Atlantis and to protect our descendants, to protect you," he muttered. "Chaya threatened you. That … made me angry. And I said things that made her angry in turn. I know I should have been calmer and stopped myself from retaliating, but I couldn't." Rodney's breath hitched and John felt a hand rub the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"Will she ever leave you alone?" Rodney asked harshly and there was the same anger in his voice as John had felt during the confrontation. "Will she ever leave us alone?"

_No,_ John thought, _she'll never leave us be. Not while you're alive, not while we're together. Not while she's in existence._ Next time – of that John was sure – she wouldn't try to bargain with him again. She wouldn't try to plead with him. She'd take one look at Rodney, see the inseparable bond between them and lash out with everything she had. And John would be forced to destroy her. Would be forced to evoke the old laws and tear her apart. Bit by bit, scattering her energies over the whole universe if it meant keeping Rodney save. Oh, Chaya would definitely leave them alone once she was rendered helpless. She'd never raise a hand against Rodney again, if John could help it. "Yes," John said, "she will leave us alone. Eventually. When I've dealt with her properly." Rodney didn't need the worry about that, yet. Soon enough he'd have to know all that and more.

John felt Rodney's arm still on the bare skin of his neck, felt him stiffen beside him. "You want to kill her," he said, half statement half question, his voice rough with what John thought sounded more like fear than anything else.

For a moment, he debated telling Rodney that he didn't want to answer, that he couldn't, that it'd be best if Rodney didn't know. But he couldn't do that, he'd promised … he'd promised to tell Rodney everything he could. And John had no reason to not tell Rodney, other than his urge to protect him as much as possible. So John decided to tell the truth. "Yeah, if she dares to threaten you again, I'll kill her," John breathed. "Before, she wasn't crazy, not like this. Once she's fulfilled her sentence, she will be a danger. To everything and anybody." He hesitated before he continued, "Especially to you."

Rodney huffed, "In twenty-two generations? I'll be long gone by then."

John moaned and buried his head in Rodney's shoulder. The thought alone hurt him like a physical injury. "No, not if I can help it," he whispered, his hands twisted into the material of Rodney's shirt, holding onto him like a drowning man. "I can't … the thought of losing you is killing me, Rodney, I can't bear it. You … I … no," he denied. "When you're dying, I'll help you. You and I, we can both ascend. I'll show you how. I'll do whatever it takes."

"John–"

"No," John repeated, desperate to stop this line of conversation now. He couldn't think about it then, didn't know if he ever could. "If you die, I die, too. We don't love like you do," John said, taking extreme care to pronounce it very slowly. He'd tried to explain it before, but Rodney couldn't understand. There just weren't the right words in the English language to describe any of it. "I'd die for you, Rodney," he whispered brokenly. And it was the truth. He'd taken on a fully ascended being for Rodney, would have fought it out with her, even to the extent of losing his human body.

"I don't understand," Rodney answered, but there was something in his voice that made John think that maybe – just maybe – he was starting to finally get it. Something that made John pull back a little and look into Rodney's eyes. They were wide; full of something John had no hope of deciphering.

Unwinding one of his hands from Rodney's shirt, he ran the back of his hand over Rodney's face. There was nothing else to say, nothing more to do, nothing apart from letting Rodney work it out for himself from here. John was patient that way; he'd sat around contemplating his navel for ten thousand years, after all.

"Oh John," Rodney said, leaning into the touch, closing his eyes. "I'm not worth your life, John. I'm not worthy of ascension. I'm not a nice person and, as much as it pains me to admit it, you're now smarter than me. I'm not worth dying for, John."

John's heart thudded in his chest at the tone of voice, the pain, the conviction. "Yes, you are," he simply contradicted. "For me, you are." But he could see that Rodney was unconvinced and John cleared his throat before he tried again. "I told you that we married for duty, not for love. But I don't think I told you why that is. We … we love deeply when we do, when we find the right person." He laughed with nervous energy, "Soul mates, you'd say in English. It's more about energy, though, it's about fitting together. About literally being on the same wavelength." At that, Rodney abruptly opened his eyes again and John's heart skipped a beat. "I wish I could show you, really show you what it means."

"The way you showed me when we were fighting?" Rodney asked breathlessly. "I don't mind. I mean, if you want to do that again, I don't mind," he added quickly.

"No," John said regretfully, shaking his head. "Nothing like that. It's …" John frowned at the way Atlantis was tensing around him. He sat up, pulling out of Rodney's arms, trying to pinpoint what was wrong. "Rodney, we need to …" but he didn't know what they needed to do. "Something's wrong," he said instead, "seriously, seriously wrong."

One of the radios on the bedside table came to life with Radek's voice coming through clearly. _"Rodney, I know you're off-duty, but there's something you need to see. Now." _He sounded scared.

John was already done tying his boots when Rodney picked up the radio and put it in his ear. "What's going on," Rodney asked, and John bent down to help Rodney with his boots as well, earning a frown.

Putting his own radio to his ear John pulled Rodney to his feet and started walking them towards the command center. There was a sense of urgency starting there, of terror, fear, and John didn't know what was going on, it was driving him crazy. The urge to do something, to protect Rodney, to protect Atlantis, to protect the people here came to the fore and John gave in to the pull.

"What?" Rodney asked and now he sounded scared as well. John started running. "Are you sure?"

Half aware of Rodney falling back John slowed down at the transporter, waiting impatiently for his lover. "Rodney!" he called out, making 'hurry up' gestures.

"Yes, that's Sheppard, yes, I'll bring him. We're on our way." Rodney clicked his radio off and joined John in the transporter, he turned towards John, eyes wide, face tense. "Wraith," was all he said, and John's insides twisted.

And just like that, a bad day went to hell.

The End.

**Continue reading by going to the next chapter to read: _Total Recall 5 - Bad Moon Rising_**

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**Cassandra's Author Notes:** I'm kind of stunned at how in synch Mel and I are on this series. Sure, we're like that on all of the ones we've written up to now, but this was just creepy. Either one of us is mind reading outside of the office hours again, or we really do share one brain between us. The amount of editing that went into this chapter was staggering, but I honestly think that it turned out so much better for it. Love you, sis.

**Melinda's Author Notes:** I'm actually more creeped out at what's going on between the two of us right now. You have no idea what a rush this was. We're fast … we're so damn fast right now I have no words for it. But it works. It really works brilliantly and you all can expect the next part very soon! Luv you too, sis. You're awesome!


	5. Bad moon rising

**Title:** Bad Moon Rising**  
Series:** Fifth in "Total Recall"**  
Author:** ca_pierson and darkmoore**  
Beta:** neevebrody**  
Fandom:** Stargate Atlantis  
**Pairing:** McKay/Sheppard**  
Rating:** R**  
Word count:** 16.008**  
Genre:** AU**  
Disclaimer:** Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to us, neither do the characters. This is a transformative work and we aren't making any money from it.  
**Author's Notes:** Thank you, lj user="neevebrody" for putting so much effort into betaing this!

**Summary:** With the Wraith quickly approaching there doesn't seem to be anything left to do but evacuating and destroying Atlantis. Until John has an idea that could save them all.

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Total Recall 5 - Bad Moon Rising

By Cassandra and Melinda Pierson

"There's nothing we can do," Sam said, her voice remarkably calm even while there was fear in her eyes. They were all shocked, scared, yes, terrified, staring at the monitor in front of them. "How many are there?"

"Twenty-six," Zelenka answered, his voice breaking. "We have a week to prepare … for … for ... They fooled the long-range sensors … somehow."

John could feel the panic mounting all around him; he could almost taste it on the air. "We're tracking all of the Hives," he said roughly, trying to keep other people's emotions away from himself. "How did they manage to sneak up on us?"

"They must have figured out what we're doing and did something to … I don't know," Rodney answered, his eyes glued on the dots that represented the Wraith fleet.

Sam cleared her throat. "We need to evacuate."

And that? That wasn't what John wanted to do at all. Not by a long shot. Still he sat down heavily in the chair next to Rodney at the conference table, letting the voices of the others run over him, go through him, not paying attention. There had to be something he could do, something that wouldn't mean they would leave him behind on his own. Because now that he was in Atlantis, he couldn't leave again. He wouldn't. Going back to Earth, allowing the Wraith to destroy his city was not an option.

"John?"

He shook his head, casting his mind back to retrieve the original question. "No, I don't think we should retreat and blow up the city," he answered. "There's gotta be something we can do."

All eyes turned to him and John could see the pity in them. Every one of them knew John considered Atlantis home, they all knew how much the city meant to him. And they didn't even know who he really was. John knew it hurt them to think of it as well, but he also knew they'd destroy Atlantis if they had to. Hell, he would do it if he had to. But only as an absolute last resort. Better to destroy Atlantis than let the Wraith come to Earth. His fellow Ancients would be so proud of all of them.

"There's nothing we can do," Sam repeated. As if saying it again made it hurt less for her.

Like hell there was.

Ooo00O00ooO

Getting a hold of Rodney to have a few words in private was a lot harder than John had thought it would be. He had to resort to bodily pulling Rodney into an empty room to accomplish that. "Rodney," he said, when Rodney raised his hand to his radio to open a channel to whomever was trying to get a hold of him now. John very delicately burned out the radio with a tiny thread of energy. "I need to talk to you."

"You and half the city," Rodney grunted when he couldn't open a channel and started to walk towards the door.

"Please, Rodney, listen," John practically begged as he threw himself between Rodney and the door, effectively blocking the exit.

"There's no time, John, we have to pack up and try to take as much as we can with us. You heard Sam, we're going to prepare for the evacuation. I'd really, really like to have sex with you, you know that, but we should probably postpone that until we're back on Earth," he said, trying to dislodge John from the door.

John pushed Rodney away, ignoring the hurt look on his face. "Listen," he hissed, "I can't leave."

"What do you mean you can't leave? I know you love the city, that you grew up here, that you protected it all your life and that she's your mission, but we're going to die here if we don't leave. We can't hope to stand a chance against twenty-six hive ships," Rodney argued and looked at John like he had suddenly gone crazy. "Not even you can do that, can you? I know you're powerful, but that's a bit much while you're like this," and he waved at John, looking him up and down, "you'd have to ascend and then you couldn't interfere anymore. So–"

Losing his patience John glared at Rodney, "Shut up for one minute, Rodney and listen to me. There's a weapon here, an experimental one. You wouldn't have found it in the database yet, it's been buried deep. Very deep. It was designed to specifically destroy Wraith and their hive ships. A kind of last ditch effort."

"Why wasn't it used during the siege then?" Rodney asked, puzzled, but at least John knew he had his full attention now.

"Because it's a one off chance, it's only going to fire once. Not all the Wraith attacked during the siege, they were taking turns. The weapon requires massive amounts of energy, about a ZPM's worth, they figured, maybe even more and that would fry the critical systems. There won't be a second chance." The mere thought of destroying all the Wraith in one place made John feel elated. Just like it had felt back when he'd first heard of the weapon. Then, they'd abandoned it, deciding not to use it and to flee instead, leaving it behind as useless. "We've been a thorn in the Wraith's side, Rodney, they've sent every last hive left to try and wipe us out. They'll all be here, in one place." It was a last fight for survival, John knew that kind of thing from personal experience. The Wraith Hail Mary. Full out war. And they thought they were going to win, John knew that, too. After all, these were just humans. They wouldn't stand a chance against a Wraith fleet. Rubbing a hand over his face in desperation John repeated, "They're all going to be here."

"If it uses that much energy it won't help us, though," Rodney said, plaintively, his hopeful face falling again. "We've only got one ZedPM."

"We could ask the SGC for another one," John muttered, putting his hands on Rodney's shoulders, wanting to shake his point into Rodney, but resisting the urge, instead just pulling him close enough to feel Rodney's huff against his lips. "Two should do. It should work." The time they'd tested the prototype had been … amazing. John had been there. He knew this would work. Had to work.

Rodney stared at him for a heartbeat, then he pushed away from John and made an impatient gesture. "Show me the data," Rodney demanded and his voice was shaking with excitement.

John couldn't help but smile at Rodney's eagerness and led him to the console in the corner of the room. He pulled up the data and then stepped aside, dutifully translating a word here and there for Rodney when it was pointed out to him with an impatient noise.

They poured over research data and numbers for over an hour until someone thought to hail John because they couldn't reach Rodney.

"_Colonel Sheppard? Have you seen Rodney?"_ Carter asked into his ear and John grimaced; he'd forgotten that he'd destroyed Rodney's radio.

"Yeah, he's here with me," John answered her, wishing they could have had a little more time. Rodney had been humming a lot in the way that usually meant 'I think I like this and I know I can do it', but hadn't actually said anything about it yet. It made John nervous and he had wanted to convince Rodney before talking to anybody else about it.

"_Could you let him know that he's needed in lab 5?"_

"Yes, I'll tell him," he said, then he swallowed around the lump in his throat. It was now or never, really, and Rodney gave him a long look, then waved him on as if to say 'go ahead'. John cleared his throat. "We found something." He locked his gaze with Rodney, who pulled a face, but nodded. "You should see this."

Soon, John was standing in the main lab, his back to a wall, trying to hide a smug smile. It seemed like every member of the science department was crowded inside, yelling at each other.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Rodney shouted over the chaos until everybody turned to him and silence fell over the room. "Now, we know it's experimental and extremely dangerous. Everybody has their copy of the file?" Rodney waited long enough for a wave of nods before he continued, "Then get going. I want to know everything. Radek, Miko, I want you both to do independent power calculations." He turned back to his whiteboard and started to write, then frowned and turned back, "What are you waiting for? Get on with it!"

Chaos broke out again as people left to go to their work-space. It was beautiful to watch, like some secret choreography. The subtle change from panic and pure fear to hope and optimism had been such a relief to John that he had to spend a bit of time reveling in it. But then he sighed to himself and went to check on his men.

Ooo00O00ooO

John couldn't remember ever having being that tense. He felt his muscles quiver with it and he balled his hands into fists to keep himself from drumming them on his thigh. They'd been waiting for the IOA's answer for two days. Forty-eight nightmarish hours that had John all twisted up in the most unpleasant ways. And now, standing in the command center, waiting for the SGC to dial in, John just couldn't bear it anymore. If they decided not to give them the ZPM after all, they'd finish evacuating immediately.

Not John though, when he'd said he couldn't leave he hadn't been kidding. Well, technically he could leave, but he'd fled once before and it still rankled. He wouldn't run away again, not if there was a chance he could stop the Wraith, keep his city safe, finish what had been started so many years ago. John would stay behind. He'd turn off the self destruct mechanism and he'd … he didn't know what he'd do. Probably make a ZPM or two and blow the Wraith out of the sky all by himself. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he imagined Rodney walking through the 'gate. Going back to Earth without John. It hurt.

On the upside once their descendants were gone John could ascend and save his city without repercussions. He'd probably be forced to start again, descend on Earth somewhere, worm his way back into the SGC, but it'd be worth it. It'd be … who was he kidding? Losing Rodney would never be worth it.

"Incoming wormhole," the technician said at that moment, as if they couldn't see the Stargate come to life below them, as if John couldn't feel the vibrations all around him. He remained silent as Carter exchanged some pleasantries with Generals O'Neill and Landry and stiffened when they got down to business.

"You sure this … thing will work?" O'Neill asked with his usual casualness, but John could hear that he wanted it to work.

Carter smiled. "As sure as we can be. It's an experimental weapon after all. We think that Arcturus was actually initiated in their research to find a better source of energy for their ultimate weapon. When that didn't work out and they couldn't make the weapon mobile and capable of firing more than one shot they gave up on it. Doctor McKay thinks they never had the opportunity to take down more than just a couple of ships, or they'd have used it."

"Do we know it works, though?" O'Neill repeated, enunciating carefully, giving Carter a look that made her flush.

"Yes," she said back, brightly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "It will work. They fired the prototype and the reports on it said it was phenomenal. Especially," and she shot a nervous look at John, "Tural was there for the test and we know from Colonel Sheppard's report that they finished the weapon. Their prototype had flaws, though, and apart from a handful of people who wanted to use it, the Ancients didn't think it was the best option."

"They chickened out," John supplied, he just couldn't stay silent any longer. The whole situation was too much like some of his meetings with the council, when he had had to beg them to understand the logic of one of his decisions concerning the war with the Wraith. He'd hated it and he hated this. "What I can remember is that they figured it was too dangerous to use while only part of the Wraith fleet was there. They thought that they were going to Earth anyway and the weapon would still be there for them when they got back."

"How far is the range?" Landry asked.

Exchanging a glance with Carter, John pondered if he shouldn't have just stayed away and let her handle the entire thing alone when she just gave him a half-smile that said 'hey, you took over, your gig now'. He could have kicked himself for opening his stupid mouth. "It will reach into the Hive attack distance, but no further."

O'Neill looked thoughtful at that for a moment, then he shrugged, "The ZPM is on its way. When's the rest of your guys coming through?" Both Generals grinned and John had to breathe deeply to stop himself from screaming at them. They had been playing with John, he just knew it. "We don't want to take any chances in case the plan doesn't work. Midway Station's already primed to blow up if someone doesn't put through the right code before stepping through the 'gate. We're as protected here as it's possible," O'Neill continued blithely.

John let the rest of the conversation wash over him as Carter explained their plans in detail and when the wormhole disengaged and the Stargate was back to being a lifeless ring of metal John allowed himself a sigh of relief before Carter made him bring the precious ZPM to Rodney. He still had her "and make sure he takes a break and gets some rest, we need him at the top of his game tomorrow" in his ears as he entered the transporter.

Things were moving so fast, it scared John just a little bit. Maybe because he'd always had to fight the council tooth and nail for everything… anything. Humans were so much easier to sell on blowing things up. A large part of John was giddy with relief even as he mentally started gearing himself up for the arrival of the Wraith.

"Hey," he said as he stuck his head into the labs. Both Rodney and Radek didn't even look away from their whiteboard; they did, however, wave at him. "I brought you guys a gift." He sauntered into the room and put the ZPM case on one of the workbenches. Allowing them to coo over it for a moment, John then told them both to get some food and sleep before leaving for his own quarters.

John could feel Rodney's eyes on his back until the door closed behind him and he knew that he should have said something. It had always been like this though, back when he'd still been Tural. Having been John had actually tempered the nervousness a great deal, but the waiting just grated on John's nerves as much as it always had; he couldn't even think properly.

Now, for the first time since they'd discovered the Wraith ships coming towards them, he wished he could pack up Rodney and send him to Earth. If everything went alright, John could get him back. If everything went wrong, at least Rodney would be safe. The thing was that Rodney would never leave of his own volition, he'd stay here, by John's side, frowning and unhappy and talking a mile a minute. He'd wave his hands and berate John for his bad survival instinct and his suicidal tendencies and then be his brilliant self and save them all.

Changing quickly into his running gear, John went out into his city and the lights went brighter where he ran, dimming again behind him. The exercise cleared his head almost immediately with the normalcy of it all. He could finally relax a bit. Tomorrow the last of the unnecessary personnel would be sent back home, taking only what they could carry on their backs. By the time the Wraith would come calling, they'd be off Midway Station and back on Earth, waiting for the all clear.

The whole command staff would be staying behind, as well as Radek, Lorne, one of the medics who would help Carson in case there were injuries, a few engineers, and Marines. All in all there would only be a small group of them and John was glad for that. He wouldn't need to be so damn careful if there was no one around to witness what he was doing.

"John?"

Nearly falling on his face, John stopped awkwardly and turned around to face Rodney just in time to see him step out of the corridor that led to the closest transporter. John had just ran past him on autopilot, not actually expecting to meet anybody. "Hi," he said, kicking himself for not coming up with something better to say. "What are you doing here?" Considering that 'here' was on the periphery of the area they had explored it was a valid question. He wasn't really surprised to see Rodney, had actually been expecting Rodney to show up at one point. Maybe not this soon, but eventually.

"I was tracking you," Rodney admitted and waved the Ancient scanner at John in what was probably supposed to be an apology.

John tried not to notice the pained expression on Rodney's face, or how it felt like something was squeezing his heart at the thought of what might happen soon. Instead, he breathed deliberately, feeling how his heartbeat slowed again and then started walking towards Rodney, stretching his sore muscles carefully. "Okay," he muttered as Rodney fell into step beside him. They silently walked down the side corridor Rodney had come out of and towards the transporter, but John could see the tension in Rodney's shoulders, in the way his hand fisted around the scanner. "I want you to go back to Earth, Rodney," he blurted out.

"What?" Rodney asked, obviously baffled. He stopped walking and just stood there, staring at John with wide eyes. John imagined Rodney would look at him like that if he hit him over the head without warning as well.

Closing his eyes briefly, John turned to face Rodney. It felt like there was a gulf between them all of a sudden, one that John couldn't bridge. "You'll be safer there," he tried to explain even as he watched all color go out of Rodney's face.

"You're sending me away?" Rodney asked and John could see his hands shaking from the force he used to make them into fists. "I can't believe you even think that, never mind say it to me."

Raising his hands in a placating gesture John said, "Please, Rodney, just … please?" He'd beg … he'd knock Rodney out and send him to Midway on a stretcher if necessary, but John really didn't want Rodney anywhere around Atlantis when the Wraith got here. Weapon or no weapon, things didn't always go as planned and John couldn't bear the thought of what might happen if any of the Wraith slipped through their defenses. "Please just do what I ask you to do, just this once. You can be stubborn and loyal and brave all you want after this, I promise. Hell, I'll even let you rant at me for hours if that will make it better for you, but I want you to be … what if something happens and I can't protect you? What if something happens to you?" John felt he would shatter if he said it out loud. "I can't … Rodney."

With just a step, Rodney was there, holding onto John, hugging, holding John up. "Nothing is going to happen to me. It'll all go according to plan, you'll see."

Suddenly angry with the whole situation, John pushed Rodney away and growled, "You don't know that. Just off the top of my head I can give you fifty scenarios about how this can go FUBAR without us even trying hard." This was what going insane probably felt like, John thought hysterically, rubbing his hands over his face. "I can't believe this, but I think I finally understand why my people didn't do emotions. It's crippling! And I can't think straight. God, Rodney, if something happens to you I don't know what I'll do but I can tell you that it won't be pretty." He looked at Rodney, seeing the shock and the betrayal on Rodney's face and the way he balled his hands into fists in an obvious effort not to hug John again, isolating both of them. It hurt, but John forced himself into stillness. He hated the thought of Rodney shutting him out like this, but he'd rather Rodney was pissed off at him and went through the fucking Stargate than touch him right now. "You have to go back to Earth."

"No, I really don't have to do anything," was Rodney's heated answer. "Do you think I'd leave you here on your own? I'm the only one who knows what you're even remotely capable of. If push comes to shove, you'll need me and you know it. There is no way I'm going."

"Damn it, don't fight me on this, Rodney," John said agitatedly. "I can't do this if I don't know you're safe."

"And I can't leave you behind. Don't you get it? We've been through so much together and I won't abandon you just because your protective streak is working overtime. I'm staying here, no matter what you say," Rodney told him stubbornly, chin lifted just so and arms crossed in front of his chest.

Right then, John knew he'd lost the fight. Whatever he said now wouldn't change Rodney's mind, it'd only create more hurt and more injuries to mend later on. "Rodney," John tried to put all his feelings into this one word. "Rodney." It was all he could think of to say and it wasn't nearly enough. Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, John accepted it. "Okay … okay. But there are some things that you'll have to do. With no argument."

Rodney frowned, but he uncrossed his arms and nodded just once.

Moving in until they were practically nose to nose, John put a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "If we're really gonna do this, you need to promise me that you won't leave my side. And you'll do exactly as I say, when I say it, without protest. I don't want you to end up trapped somewhere and have to worry about you getting hurt. You need to stay close. Promise me."

"Yeah, I promise. I'll stay by your side and listen to what you say without arguing. I'm never going to leave you. Promise." He looked at John for a moment, then added rather desperately, "Can we please go have some dinner now?"

That was just such a Rodney thing to say that John had to laugh helplessly. "Yeah, we can go and get you fed, I just need a shower first." He turned to lead the way to the transporter when Rodney's hand on his elbow stopped him. Looking back, John saw that Rodney had that stubborn look on his face again.

"You have to promise me something as well, John. Promise me you won't do anything heroically sacrificing. There'll be no 'so long' and you won't just leave me behind. This is a two way street. If I have to stick to your side, you'll have to let me do that. If you have any suicidal tendencies you'd better knock them out of your head right now. Understood?"

John's breath caught in his throat and he had to swallow before he could answer. "Yeah, got it."

Adamantly shaking his head Rodney pulled John towards him. "No, no, no. Say it."

"Say what?" John asked, brow furrowing with confusion.

"You know what. 'I promise.' Say it."

"I promise," John repeated obediently, voice catching in his throat.

Rodney looked at him intensely for a heartbeat, then brushed their lips together in a sweet, but short kiss. "Now we can go," he said. "Shower. We'd better hurry so I don't collapse from hunger before we make it to dinner and you have to carry me to the infirmary."

Smiling goofily John nodded. "Alright. You're kinda heavy; I think I'll pass on the carrying." When Rodney was off on one of his rants about how he wasn't at all heavy, he was perfectly normal for a grown man, John felt alright for the first time since the long range scanners had picked up the Wraith fleet.

Ooo00O00ooO

It was strange to have MRE's in the mess hall again after all the weird stuff that had been served there, but being surrounded by his team before the mission was the only thing that kept John from freaking out. It was that little piece of normalcy he simply needed. He'd strategically placed himself next to Rodney instead of opposite him, even if that meant he had to watch Ronon wolf down his food. For what he was planning to do this was better though: he wanted to be able to look both Teyla and Ronon in the eye when he told them that he had … changed. It didn't help that Rodney acted like they were about to be stood in front of an execution squad. Rodney hadn't actually quarreled when John had told him during their shower that he didn't want to lie to either of them anymore, that they were part of John's family as much as Rodney was. Neither of them, John had argued, would actually try to hurt Rodney or John.

But Rodney hadn't been really convinced until John had said he genuinely thought if he left it too long they'd be more upset by the whole thing than if they just got it over with. Still, the wide-eyed, scared look on Rodney's face hadn't faded.

Finally, when John couldn't stand it any longer, he put his fork down and cleared his throat. "There's something I've gotta tell you guys." The MRE tasted awful and every bite he'd taken felt like lead in his stomach. John wasn't sure what he was more nervous about, the Wraith at their doorstep or telling the rest of his team that he'd lied to them for what now seemed like years. He felt Rodney's hand on his knee and while his grip was a tad on the tight side, the contact was soothing and reassuring.

John cleared his throat again and Teyla just smiled at him. A little smile that John knew she reserved for them, for her family. Ronon surprised him by pushing away his MRE and looking at him with a sort of calm expectation rather than just continuing to shovel food into his mouth. "See … it's like this …" John started, his eyes drifting to Rodney for a moment trying to find some reassurance. Of course, Rodney's face mirrored the turmoil John felt in a hapless sort of way. No help whatsoever. "I mean …" How did he say this kind of thing anyway? He'd run the conversation through his head a few times on the way to the mess hall, but he hadn't found anything that sounded even remotely right. Nothing that didn't say _I've been lying to you all this time_, or _because obviously I didn't trust you enough to tell you the truth_. He groaned inwardly. What the fuck had he been thinking? Not telling Rodney had already been a bad idea. Alright, so sleeping with him before he'd told him, that had been the stupid idea and in retrospect John knew that he'd have been better off if he'd done that the other way around. And in comparison to Rodney's reaction … this couldn't be so bad. Right? "Okay, so what I was gonna tell you is that …" he started again, finally blurting out "I'm sorry" a moment later. Which took him a bit by surprise, he'd planned to say something else.

"Is this about you and McKay sleeping together?" Ronon asked.

John froze in the process of opening his mouth. "What?" He was completely thrown out of the nice little speech he had planned on giving any moment now. There had been a few times in his life where he'd wanted to be anywhere but where he'd been, but the feeling had never been quite so intense before. Agonizing about what to tell them hadn't actually included his relationship with Rodney and for a moment, John felt positively ashamed. They should have talked to Teyla and Ronon about that right after they'd started sleeping together, but it had never even occurred to him. Part of John was still struggling with the military mindset, the need to hide, the need to keep his job. "Rodney and I, we're … how did you know?"

"McKay looks like he's gonna keel over any moment and you don't know what to say. I figure it's about how you or him decided to finally make a move," Ronon said, looking rather amused. He'd leaned back, had his arms crossed over his chest and was calmly balancing on two legs of his chair.

The indulgent smile Teyla bestowed on both of them made John feel nearly as warm and loved as Ronon's easy acceptance. She nodded gravely and told them sincerely, "We are both very happy for you," she said. "You have been lonely for too long. Both of you." It sounded like a ritual to John and it probably was, but behind it, he could hear that she genuinely felt that way.

This was what John had always wanted. In all his life … as Tural, and most likely as Ascended, all he'd ever wanted was a family. To belong. To be accepted. It was a heady feeling to receive such a gift and a surge of love for all of them constricted his throat. Rodney turned to John, his expression so close to panic that John put his hand on Rodney's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Thanks, and while that's true," John finally said and had to suppress a laugh at Rodney's involuntary whimper, "I wanted to tell you something else, actually." Thinking about how he should start this, he ducked his head and uneasily rubbed the back of his neck. "Remember that whole business with Tural?" he asked and winced. Like they'd forget all that … sometimes John really couldn't believe how awkward he could still be with all the life experience he had.

"Yeah, we remember," Ronon rumbled and dropped his chair back down, reached for Rodney's MRE and pulled it over without Rodney so much as noticing. It wasn't like Rodney was eating, after all. Sparing the time to briefly grin at John, he started eating again.

Teyla nodded serenely. "We all were there. It was very unsettling to watch you hurt so much."

"You see … the thing is … I'm not … I wasn't entirely truthful when I said the memories faded and that I'm not … him," John stuttered out uneasily. Damn it. It had all seemed so much easier when he had decided to do this.

"John," Teyla gently said to him, still smiling, "you do not need to speak any further. There are many things the Ancestors chose to do that we do not understand and we are aware there are certain limitations of what you are allowed to talk about, in your military. We do value you as a friend, John, you are family. We do not wish to cause any harm to come onto you or Rodney by your speaking to us. If you do however wish to share your story about … Tural with us, then we would be honored to hear it." She shared a look with Ronon that John had always interpreted as commiseration about Earth and its people.

Ronon grunted in agreement. "We knew something was up anyway," he said. "You're different now."

It was a statement, not a question and John grinned, shrugging one shoulder self-consciously. "Yeah, I kinda am. But at the same time, I'm not. If that makes sense." It really was hard to explain.

Ronon just grinned at him, amused curiosity dancing in his eyes. "So you're Tural then? You're actually an Ancestor?" Ronon asked casually and started eying John's MRE now, apparently completely unfazed by the revelations. John just pushed it over to him without a second thought. There was no way he could eat anymore with the impending battle.

The waiting was killing John, he wished it was over and they could finally get to the part where he could actually do something. John ducked his head, not sure how he felt about the whole situation. Would Ronon and Teyla be angry that he'd kept his secret for so long? They didn't seem to mind much. In fact, they seemed to be more relaxed than John had ever thought possible. "Yeah, I am, but that doesn't mean I'm not still me. I just … have more memories than before. And can do a few things. I'm not ascended or anything, really and I don't have all of my powers. I wouldn't keep something like that from you. I wouldn't keep it to myself and not defend Atlantis if I had them. So I guess what I mean to say is … I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you before, I just …"

Teyla reached out and touched John's hand. "We understand, John," she said, then reached out with her other hand and held Rodney's as well. "We are honored that you confided in us and we are pleased that the Ancestors chose to protect Atlantis and the people of the Pegasus galaxy." She inclined her head, now addressing Rodney, who still looked pale and terrified. "I wish both of you much happiness and a long life together." Letting go of both of them Teyla got up and put a hand on Ronon's shoulder, who followed suit. "We will see you in the chair room once we have all had some rest. John, Rodney." She nodded at them and turned away.

Feeling stunned to the core, John could only sit there and watch them leave. He cleared his throat. "Well." He felt lighter than he had since Rodney had put it all together. "That … went better than I thought." Rodney didn't answer; he just made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and slumped against John. "You okay?" John asked. Rodney had been under so much pressure lately that John was genuinely worried about him. But Rodney just turned towards him and buried his face in John's shoulder. "Hey, Rodney," he put his arms around Rodney's shaking shoulders, "hey … hey." Then Rodney drew back and John could see the tears of laughter in his eyes.

"Oh my god, you should have seen your face," Rodney managed to get out somehow. "I can't believe they took it that well."

John scowled and punched Rodney gently. "That's not funny," he grumbled. "And you're only laughing because you're relieved. You were so scared that I could feel it without actually trying." Too scared, given the fact they both considered Teyla and Ronon family. John wanted to ask about it, but this wasn't the time. There'd be an opportunity for those questions later. When they were safe. And John was actually relieved Rodney had been laughing, because right then, he couldn't have dealt with it if Rodney had been crying. Deep, meaningful conversations definitely had to wait.

Especially as there were few times John had seen Rodney like this: face flushed, eyes shining and smiling broadly. The sight made John's heart lurch and some of what he felt right then must have shown in his eyes because Rodney's smile lost some of it's brilliance as his eyes went soft with emotion.

"We've got some time," Rodney stated and John had to swallow at the heat in Rodney's voice.

How they got to Rodney's quarters, John didn't know, but somehow he ended up with his back to the door, Rodney pressing up against him, kissing him almost desperately. Then Rodney's hands were tugging at John's shirt, frantically seeking bare skin and John almost gave in to the sensations. But something about the way Rodney pressed up against him, about the way Rodney's hand wandered over John's skin too fast, too frenzied, too restless, made John pause. Something was off. This wasn't just Rodney wanting to get him naked, no, there was such a desperate, almost panicked undertone in Rodney's actions that it sent a shiver down John's spine. And not in the pleasurable way. This was Rodney saying goodbye.

Rodney moved on, his lips hot on John's jaw, then his neck, leaving John breathless. "Rodney," he said, trying to catch Rodney's hands, trying to make him stop, to make him slow down.

"Busy," Rodney muttered against John's skin, his teeth sharp counterpoints to gentle kisses as Rodney nipped him repeatedly.

John took a deep breath and put his hands on Rodney's shoulders, pushing him away gently. The loss of the warmth of Rodney's body made him shiver, but he couldn't let this happen. It was unacceptable. "Rodney," he repeated and he took Rodney's face in his hands, thumbs rubbing over kiss-swollen lips, "slow down. This isn't the last time we're gonna do this." John pulled him closer and chastely kissed him. "There'll be plenty of times for us to have sex," John assured him, leaning in to kiss Rodney again, but hesitated at the last moment. Something in Rodney's body language had changed, subtle, but definitely there. "Rodney?" John asked softly, but Rodney averted his eyes. "Rodney, what's wrong? Talk to me! What's the problem? You're not thinking I'm rejecting you, are you? Because if–" In a sudden flash of insight, John realized what the problem was.

"Oh dammit," John cursed. "Listen, Rodney, I'm not good at this," he admitted.

"Not good at what?" Rodney asked tiredly, but he stayed where he was, allowing John's hands to settle back on his shoulders.

Squeezing gently, John pulled Rodney closer until they were leaning against each other again. "Relationships. Talking about emotions. Saying the right things in situations like these," John answered, relieved when Rodney's hands came to rest on his hips. "At least now I know why I'm so bad at it." With a sigh he touched his lips to Rodney's, then kissed his way down Rodney's jaw, to his throat, to kiss the pulse point, following the same path Rodney had taken earlier, just slower. "It's a bit overwhelming really."

"What is?" Rodney asked and John could hear the slight hitch in his voice.

John breathed on Rodney's skin, enjoying the way Rodney shuddered. "What I feel for you. It's not just about sex, Rodney, you have to know that. I've told you that I … care. But it's not so easy for me to actually voice my feelings for you. I'm completely out of my depth. There are no reference points in the entirety of my experience and I don't know what to say or do half of the time. Or how to say it. And I'm really sorry if I say the wrong things. I just figured that, when I told you that we don't love like you do, that you'd understand that I meant to say that … I love you. And I'm in with you for the long haul, if you'll have me. And now stop worrying." He sighed again, then hugged Rodney tightly and rubbed his cheek against Rodney's. "We're not going to die tomorrow."

"That's not what you were saying earlier," Rodney muttered.

John laughed at that. "I changed my mind. You were right," John paused for Rodney to say something along the lines of 'of course I was right' and 'I'm a genius, I'm always right', but Rodney remained silent. "Everything will go according to plan," John repeated Rodney's words from earlier, kissing Rodney's temple, his hands underneath Rodney's shirt, tracing random patterns over warm skin. "We have all the time in the world. There's no need to rush, and I won't have you saying goodbye."

Rodney pulled back. "I wasn't saying …"

Silencing Rodney with a quick kiss, John shook his head. "Oh, I know exactly what you were doing, but I won't let you. I'll just have to find a way to distract you …" John looked into Rodney's eyes and saw desire that matched his own. He pulled Rodney into another kiss, not quick, but soft and deep. What John really wanted was to take his time, to explore Rodney, just like this kiss, to spread him out, to open him up, to feel Rodney come apart beneath him. He held Rodney's face in his hands and swallowed his little whimper before breaking the kiss gently. "I love the way you react to me, Rodney," John's voice had dropped to a whisper, his mouth close to Rodney's ear. He felt Rodney shiver against him, his fingers tangling in the waistband of John's trousers. "You have no idea what you do to me."

Rodney groaned. He thrust against John, hands grasping John's hips tightly. "What are we waiting for, then? Bed, now!" Rodney's voice was thick with arousal and promise.

Ooo00O00ooO

"Would you just relax, Rodney," John asked, exasperated at what he was tempted to call Rodney's mother hen tendencies. "I'm fine and you don't have to hover, I'll continue to be fine even if you're not right next to me." John loved Rodney, but his nervousness was starting to get oppressing in its intensity. At least Ronon and Teyla were standing quietly near the door, ready to defend them if it became necessary, pools of serenity and calm in John's perception.

The hurt expression on Rodney's face didn't help with the relaxing part of John's preparations. "I'm just trying to help," Rodney said and … was that a pout?

"Stop it," John muttered and let his eyes drift shut again. "I need to concentrate and you're not helping at all. Now go over there," he pointed vaguely into the corner with the console where Rodney had set up his laptop, "and don't speak."

John could hear Rodney's mouth snap shut and footsteps into the direction he'd indicated with rapid typing following immediately. Sinking deeper into the connection to Atlantis, John concentrated on the world that opened up for him now. Nothing felt like this … this being one with everything that the city was and it nearly overwhelmed him as Atlantis showed him the systems, allowing him access directly to the sensor data and the defense systems. The shield felt like a second skin now, snug around his body. For a moment, he was the city, until he got used to the sensation and gently separated himself from it. It was different from before, when he had just been John, but remarkably similar to the one time Tural had sat in the chair. Outposts had nothing on Atlantis, but those were what John had had most experience with ten thousand years ago.

"They're pretty close now," Rodney said and his voice was dimmer than usual, like it was coming from some place far away.

John had already seen them, but they weren't quite close enough yet. "A little longer, Rodney, we don't know the exact range and I'd like to get them all on the first try." Using the internal sensors to check in on the others, John was glad to see their focused activities. It was soothing somehow, not to be alone in this. It didn't take long for the first hive ships to start firing against the shield, but they were spread out too far for John to take action.

"You really think this will work?" Ronon suddenly asked.

The chair rotated, bringing Ronon and Teyla into John's field of vision and he looked at them briefly before closing his eyes again in concentration. "Yes. It'll work. But it'll work better if we get them all before this thing goes on the frizz. Otherwise we'll have to head out there and hunt down any leftovers before they can recoup."

"Thought you were a warrior back then," Ronon said, like that meant he couldn't know about anything else.

"I was a protector," John answered him, knowing full well what Ronon was doing. They were all sick of the waiting. Especially now that every burst of energy that evaporated against the shields was like the bite of an insect, making John want to scratch his arms. "Let's just say I'm really clever and know my way around the sciency bits as well." The last hive ship came that much closer, starting to fire as well. John tensed. "Alright, they're all in firing range now. What do you think, Rodney?"

"I don't know," Rodney said and he sounded terrified.

Breaking concentration for one last time John locked his gaze with Rodney's. "It's alright," he soothed, "it'll be fine." Rodney didn't answer, but the expression on his face said everything. It was his you're-a-moron-but-for-some-reason-I-trust-you-anyway expression. John grinned, then leaned back fully, sinking deeply into the almost trance that had always made him a prime candidate for the chair. The energy levels were a brilliant amber hue to him everywhere he looked, not unlike the color of a ZPM. Atlantis vibrated around him as he activated the weapon and funneled everything he had into it, guiding the massive power blast into the Wraith fleet above them. He watched as every hive the ray touched burst like a bubble of soap leaving him with a rush of elation.

"It's working!" he heard Rodney's crow of triumph through the haze. "Ten … eleven … this is amazing."

It was amazing and through the sensors, it looked like golden rain more than a deadly weapon. Beautiful in its destruction. John remembered fighting the Wraith all his life. So many years, so many lost friends and dead comrades. Wiping them from his skies like this was utterly satisfying.

"Only five left now," Rodney said and John could hear his own happiness mirrored in Rodney's voice. "Three!"

Just then the hive broke apart under the onslaught of energy and John refocused his aim onto the last two remaining hive ships that were hovering closely together. He had started with those furthest away on purpose and neither of these two would make it out of range before … his environment changed from the confident glow of amber to red alarmingly fast. "Fuck," John hissed as he felt the weapon burn out. He could almost smell the parts melting and hear Atlantis keen in pain until he realized it was his own voice, high pitched and anguished. The alarms were blaring and John suppressed everything he felt and saw to focus onto the two last hive ships. He'd barely touched them before the weapon had broken, but there they were, hovering unmoving above them.

They had refocused on Atlantis, firing all out and releasing a mass of Darts that made John's heart constrict painfully.

"John?"

He felt hands on him as he was forcefully pulled out of the chair, away from the connection to the city. Ending up on the floor in front of it, John slowly came back to himself, feeling Rodney's arms around him. His head was pillowed on Rodney's shoulders and he felt a hand rubbing circles on his back.

"It's alright, John, everything's okay," Rodney muttered, over and over again.

John whimpered. His whole body ached and he couldn't move. "Hurts," he tried to say, but it came out as a whine and Rodney held him tighter for it. If he could have, he'd have laughed at his own stupidity. He should have anticipated feeling the catastrophic failure like a physical injury while he was still in the chair. But he hadn't and the shock of it had made it that much worse.

"Doctor Beckett?" He heard Teyla say and struggled to sit up a bit straighter.

"No," he said, "not Beckett." There was nothing the doctor could do anyway. What John was experiencing was mostly psychological anyway. "Minute." All he needed was a little bit of time to recover, a few minutes, just lying there in Rodney's arms, doing nothing but breathing.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you, you are not needed."

Silently thanking Teyla, John allowed his head to sink back down onto Rodney's shoulder and closed his eyes. He could feel Teyla's worry and Ronon's unease, but Rodney's panic was nearly too much to bear and he couldn't block out anything right then. The pain slithered along his nerves, making him shudder again and again. "This sucks," he muttered, but he'd regained enough control over his arms to wrap them around Rodney, holding on for dear life.

"What's going on?" The question was whispered and Rodney probably didn't expect an answer right away. "Are you … are you okay?"

John squeezed Rodney once, then let go of him and pulled back. "Yeah, I'll be fine," he said. "The critical failure just took me by surprise. I've never experienced that first hand and I underestimated the effect it'd have. How long will our shields hold?"

For a moment, Rodney just looked at him, then climbed to his feet and went to the console. "Half an hour … an hour if we're lucky," he said, his brow furrowing with worry. "This isn't good. We lost one ZPM and most of the second one. What the hell happened?"

Holding onto the chair John managed to regain his footing. "I underestimated the power drain we'd experience when the weapon failed," he simply said. Then he laughed depreciatingly. "I didn't even factor that one in. This didn't happen during the test. It did burn out, but there was no energy burst at all. Which was … weird, it shouldn't have …"

"They changed it," Rodney interrupted him. "Minor modifications were made concerning the energy grid. I think that would have done it." There was a defeated, hopeless expression on Rodney's face. John hated seeing him like this.

"Come on," he said and took a staggering step towards the door. "We've got no time to lose, gotta go to the ZPM chamber." Before he could take a second step Ronon had slung an arm around John's waist, keeping him upright. John slumped against him and a moment later Rodney took his right arm and pulled it over his shoulder. "Thanks," John said, relieved at the help, because he had no idea how far he would have gotten on his own. Hopefully he'd be alright by the time they reached their destination. He activated his radio. "Colonel Carter, this is Sheppard. We've got two Wraith ships left, but I think I hit them before the weapon blew out. They seem to be dead weight for now," John reported.

"_I know, Colonel Sheppard,"_ she answered immediately, like she'd been waiting for his call, which – admittedly – had probably been the case. _"The shield is still up, but we're quickly running out of power and options. I'm going to give the evacuation signal now."_

"No," John objected. "Don't do that. I might have an idea." He was still a bit unsteady on his legs, but much better already. At this rate he'd be okay by the time they got there. "Sheppard out," he said, closed the channel and gently disengaged himself from Ronon and Rodney. "I'm alright, I can walk on my own now," he said, then added a quiet 'thanks' for both of them. Running was still a bit beyond him, but he would have done it, if he could have. The alarms were deafening him and they instilled such a surge of anxiety inside of him it made him wonder if his childhood in a besieged city hadn't conditioned him for certain reactions.

To his surprise – and worry – the ZPM chamber was full of engineers, with Samantha Carter in the middle, as if they could do something against the catastrophe that was about to happen. But from the expressions on their faces, John could see they knew differently. It was the same expression John had seen on Rodney's face: defeat. All of them knew what the depletion of the ZPM meant – that they were as good as dead. This time not even Rodney would be able to pull a miracle out of his ass.

Closing his eyes briefly, John came to a decision. It wasn't even a hard decision, but one he had already made a few thousand years ago – he would protect Atlantis and the people in it at all costs. This time was no different. Even though he knew it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Yes, even though he knew that the scientists would be able to put two and two together and come to the right conclusion – no matter if they actually saw anything or not. There was no other choice. No other solution. John took a deep, calming breath. "Rodney, hand me the depleted ZPM, the rest of you, get out," he ordered and all eyes were suddenly on him.

"John, what the …? What are you trying to do?" Rodney asked, looking shocked but no less scared now.

"What I came to do, Rodney. I'm gonna help you guys. I'm going to try and save Atlantis. Right now, we're sitting ducks and you know it. There's no time left. Now hand me that ZPM, or I'll go and get it myself," John answered him shortly and he saw comprehension dawn on Rodney's features.

"You heard the man, get out of here, all of you!" Rodney snapped at the gathered scientists who had been staring open mouthed at the two of them arguing. "Leave the equipment; you can get it later, just get out!" Rodney's patience was clearly running thin and John knew he would try to do anything to keep his secret from getting out.

"Rodney, John, what's going on?" Sam Carter asked from behind them and John had almost forgotten she was still in the room.

"I can't explain right now, we don't have the time," John replied, walking over to where Rodney was about to remove the drained ZPM. Knowing that he would spook Rodney but also knowing he would need help after he was done with his task, John tapped his earpiece. "Carson, do you read? Please respond!"

"Really John what …" Carter began but John ignored her.

"John, talk to me!" Rodney snapped, clearly worried about John calling the infirmary. "What are you going to do?"

"Rodney, I'm going to solve our little energy problem, that's what I'm going to do," John snapped right back, trying to hide his uneasiness. "I will re-charge the ZPM so we can use it to power the shields until I can take out the last hives. It's the only way to save the city. But this body still is pretty much human and won't take that kind of power output lightly. So if you don't want me to ascend again, I suggest you let me call Carson so he can make sure my body survives the incident. Now hand me the damn ZPM." He didn't want to ascend again, didn't want to leave Rodney and Atlantis behind, unprotected.

Beckett's voice crackled in John's ear. _"Yes, Colonel, I'm here. What's the problem?"_ The doctor sounded a little out of breath but otherwise calm and collected.

"I need you to come to the ZPM chamber with a gurney, a few bags of IV-fluids and something to bring down the body temperature after severe overheating. Most probably there will be areas with second to third degree burns, so you might want to bring something for those as well. Don't bother with any narcotics. Sheppard out." John didn't give Carson time to ask any questions and took the ZPM from Rodney's hands.

"Burns?" Rodney asked in a choked voice. He'd gone deathly pale, but released his grip on the ZPM nevertheless.

John took a deep breath, looking Rodney directly in the eyes, directly into the fear he was trying so valiantly to hide. If nothing else, John knew had to take the time to reassure Rodney, knew if the roles were reversed he'd need the same reassurance. He let his face relax. "Rodney, listen to me. This is going to look awful, I know that. But believe me when I tell you that I won't be in pain, alright? I promise. I need you to focus and listen to me carefully. Once I'm done, just tell Carson to treat the dehydration and knock me out for about two hours. Tell him to stay away from the burns and to absolutely not touch anything else. I'll take care of the rest myself, once I'm awake again. That's important, okay? I've changed, I'm not like his average human patient any more and he'll do more harm than good if he tries to fix me. Tell him no more than four bags of IV, no catheter, no conventional burn treatment. I know he'll protest and I know he'll want to do more, but you really have to keep him from doing more harm than good. Do you understand me, Rodney? It's important!" John's voice was pleading. Rodney looked as if he was about to keel over, but he nodded his assent.

"I'll make sure to tell him," Rodney promised in a toneless voice.

Carter, who seemed to have caught on that something huge was going to happen, suddenly spoke up from behind John. "We'll make sure Carson takes good care of you, Tural. Thank you for helping us."

John smiled. She was a pretty smart girl after all. "No problem," John replied over his shoulder before he said, "Stand back, this is going to be a rough ride."

Concentrating on the part of himself that was energy and not restricted by a human body, John gathered himself. He took a second to adjust a few chemicals in his brain, his knowledge about the workings of pain and its origin so much more complex than that of the most advanced human scientists. He hadn't lied to Rodney: he really wouldn't be in any pain. John couldn't and wouldn't risk breaking his concentration by being distracted by the pain of his human hull. Pain was necessary for humans, was good and healthy, a warning tool. To John right now, it was utterly useless and yes, even a hindrance.

That taken care of, John turned his full concentration on the depleted ZPM pushed a steady stream of energy out of his palms and into the fragile tool in his hands. He couldn't go too fast or else not only would his human body overheat enough to falter, he would also risk damage to the delicate mechanisms of the ZPM.

The soft glow of the ZPM in his hands told John it was working and he kept pushing energy at it, slowly but steadily. It was exhausting and John could see the skin of his palms begin to redden and blister so he adjusted his grip slightly as to not drop the ZPM. Somewhere behind him, Carson bustled into the room, asking questions, but John didn't spare him any more thought. This work was delicate as it was and required his complete attention.

After a few more moments, John knew he was almost done and he was grateful for it. He felt tired, exhausted, from pushing so much of himself into the ZPM. Neither his human form nor the ZPM were made for this kind of energy transfer and John was struggling to hold it together. The unmistakable stench of burnt flesh lingered in the air. His body was suffering from a serious case of overheating and right now all that was holding John upright still was his own desperation and his will to see this through. He'd collapse the second the ZPM was recharged.

"Rodney, take it. I'm done," John pressed out through clenched teeth and then Rodney was there, taking the ZPM from him, holding it tight. Keeping it safe. "Don't worry, it's gonna be alright," John tried to assure Rodney before he let go of the tight grip over his body and slipped into unconsciousness.

Ooo00O00ooO

Sitting there, next to John's bed, Rodney wished he could reach out to John. He wanted to touch, to feel for himself that John was still alive. To Rodney, he looked more dead though, his skin lobster red, his hands carefully wrapped in some sort of gauze that wouldn't stick to his burnt, oozing hands. There were blisters up to his elbows. Every part of John that was visible was painful to look at. Rodney felt strangely detached from his surroundings, the steady beeps of the machinery connected to John the only thing that actually felt real.

Carson had freaked out to say the least. He had come rushing in, just as John had finishing re-charging the ZedPM and he'd been there to catch John's unconscious body before he could hit the ground. Both Rodney and Sam had told Carson what John had asked them to tell, but of course, there had been arguing. Carson had wanted to treat the burns not just take care of fluids and blood chemicals at which point Rodney had lost his temper and yelled at Carson that John was a fucking Ancient and knew his limits better than Carson did.

That had done the trick. But now Carson was moping. Rodney didn't think he had ever seen his friend as pissed off and hurt at the same time. It was obvious to everyone who cared to look that Carson was struggling with the fact that John hadn't trusted him enough to tell him the truth. And that John was – even in his unconscious state – dictating how Carson had to do his job.

Rodney remembered how hurt he had been himself and knew Carson had every reason to be offended. Carson counted John among his friends and not telling something this big was … a betrayal of trust. Rodney had only been kept in the dark for a few short days, for Carson and everyone else it was so much longer. And Rodney knew that knowledge had to be painful even though John's reasons for keeping silent were sound.

Somewhere in the depths of the infirmary, a timer beeped and a moment later Carson appeared beside John's bed, syringe in hand. "The two hours are up; I'm going to wake him now. Just like he ordered," Carson said to Rodney, his displeasure about the situation clearly audible in his voice.

"Thanks, Carson. I know you're convinced this was a bad idea, but he's going to be fine. Trust me, he knows what he's doing," Rodney reassured his friend again when he notice the unhappy look on Carson's face. Carson sighed and emptied the syringe into the canula that was in John's right arm. For a brief moment, Rodney wondered if he sounded as unconvinced and worried as he felt.

"I do trust him, Rodney. It seems that he does not trust me, though," Carson replied, sounding bitter. He discarded the syringe, and checked the monitors that were attached to John's body, busying himself. Rodney suppressed a sigh. It was going to take some serious crawling on John's part to get Carson to forgive him anytime soon.

Slowly, John stirred. "Ow," he whimpered, opening his eyes and blinking into the infirmary lights sluggishly.

"Ow?" Rodney asked, alarmed. Why was John in pain? What was wrong? "You hurt? Why do you hurt? You said you wouldn't be in pain. I clearly remember you telling me you wouldn't be in pain. Did you lie to me? Were you in pain all along?" Rodney asked, frantically. That was a truly horrifying thought. Had John been in pain while he had re-charged the ZedPM? Had he felt it as his skin turned red and blistered, had he been in pain as his flesh burnt?

"When I said I wouldn't be in any pain, I meant while doing it. I didn't say a word about afterwards," John replied petulantly and Rodney felt the urge to throttle him. Damn him and his stubborn heroic streak. Just as Rodney was about to dive into a lengthy rant about how utterly stupid and reckless and heroic and dumb and oh yes, stupid John's actions had been, John's skin lost his unhealthy crimson color. It happened gradually but fast enough to be clearly visible. On the other side of the bed, Carson gasped.

John turned his head, giving Carson a beaming smile. "You did great, Doc. Thanks," he said as he pushed himself upright.

"Colonel, your hands!" Carson exclaimed and caught one of John's now flailing hands in his. John had begun to shake his arms to dislodge the gauze and bandages that were secured at his wrists.

"I'm fine, Carson. See?" He indicated the hand Carson had just unwrapped, the skin whole and unmarked. There was a look of utter shock on Carson's face as he let go of John's hand and watched as John pulled out the canula, unhooking himself from the last running IV.

"You can't just do that," Carson chided, coming out of his stupor. "I need more tests and I need to correct the data I have about you and I need…"

"Carson? Later," John interrupted him, swinging his legs over the edge of the infirmary bed, looking around. "I need my clothes and then there're still two hive ships that have my name on them," he said, grinning as he pushed both of his hands through his hair, tousling it even more than usual. Rodney thought that he looked positively edible, despite the scrubs and the whole 'had-been-burnt-and-unconscious-until-a-second-ago' thing.

"And what name would that be?" Carson asked in a sharp tone, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Something in John's face softened. He looked at Carson for a second before he placed his right hand on Carson's shoulder, squeezing once. "I'm John, Carson. I'm still me. I'm just a little …" he trailed off obviously searching for words.

"He's just a little more," Rodney supplied, repeating the words John had said to him, what felt like a lifetime ago. And it was true. He was still John. Even if he was a slightly … upgraded version. "But believe me, Carson, everything else is just the same. The same stupid, heroic, reckless stunts, the same suicidal tendencies. It would have been too good to be true if we'd gotten a military CO who was actually careful," Rodney went on, trying to lighten the mood.

"You'll be the death of me," Carson groaned and shot John a stern glare. "I expect you back here the moment the crisis is over, are we clear?" he asked and John just grinned his little boy grin.

"Whatever you say, Doc," John answered, already walking towards the door.

For one long, painful moment, Rodney thought John would just go, leaving him behind like he usually did when he was doing stupid things. And John was already half-way out the door before he turned around. He looked at Rodney, head cocked, frowning.

"Are you coming, Rodney?" John asked with an odd mixture of impatience and reluctance. "I still need to get dressed and we haven't got all day."

Ooo00O00ooO

John didn't really want Rodney to go with him, but he'd promised and John wasn't going to break that promise the first time things got difficult. He hadn't even asked if Rodney would like to stay behind – which had taken quite a lot of willpower, more than John thought he actually possessed. "So I figured we could get close with a Puddlejumper and blow them up with a couple of drones," John said casually as they were both standing before the rear hatch of 'jumper one.

Rodney huffed, crossing his arms defensively. "That's your brilliant plan?" he asked, clearly not impressed by it. Still, he went inside confidently enough and sat down though he kept glaring at John every now and then.

Even knowing what they were getting into, and that there would be talks in the near future, once everything was normal again … talks about John and his reckless nature most likely, John grinned. He slid into the pilot's chair and listened to the hatch closing while he looked at Rodney, who had already pulled up the HUD and was busying himself by checking all the important stats. "I never said it was a good plan," John returned, "but I'm pretty sure it'll work. Which is the important bit."

"They've started repairs already. And they've been moving away from us for the last two hours," Rodney stated, his eyes not wavering from the numbers running over the HUD, but his left hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out or something.

John opened the roof remotely and nodded at what Rodney had said. "Yeah, you said that already. Twice." He cloaked the 'jumper before it lifted off on automatic, then took over and plotted the course to intercept the Wraith ships. "But the point is, they're not gone yet and they're moving slowly. The damage I did must have been pretty bad for them not to stand and fight." Especially as they'd just destroyed most of their fleet.

"If this doesn't work and we get killed I'll haunt you for the rest of your miserable existence," Rodney muttered.

Laughing, John reached out and patted Rodney's knee. "You do that, Rodney, you do that." The way Rodney looked at him was somewhere between annoyed and amused. "Let me show you what a Puddlejumper is really capable of."

"I know what Puddlejumpers can do," Rodney rolled his eyes at John and half turned towards him.

"Oh?" he teased, trying for innocent, but at Rodney's glare, he relented. "There are a few things we haven't figured out yet, but they're pretty cool. You'll love this." He could feel Rodney's curious eyes on him, but explaining everything would be so much harder than just showing Rodney, so John concentrated on the path he wanted to take towards the Wraith ships, evading the Darts that were now targeting Atlantis. There were more of them around than John had anticipated, leading to enough near collisions that John was sweating by the time they reached empty space. "We should be there in a few minutes," John said with satisfaction. He'd dreamed of this moment, had hoped for it since the day the Wraith had become their enemy in Pegasus. They both fell silent for a moment, watching the two hive ships grow bigger and bigger in front of them.

"If you weren't sure this would work, you wouldn't have taken me with you," Rodney said and it wasn't a question, so John chose not to answer. "I really wish you'd stop being so damn overprotective. It was bad enough when you were still … normal," Rodney said, both of his hands forming fists just inside of John's field of vision. "But since you turned into John 2.0 this has gotten worse, and you've got to stop it."

That was – kind of expected actually. John just hadn't thought Rodney would pick now of all times to speak up about it. "John 2.0?" he asked, amused.

"You know exactly what I mean," Rodney snapped. "And stop trying to change the subject. "First, you try to hustle me to Earth – which, by the way, I still feel kind of sore about – and earlier you clearly weren't planning on taking me with you. If you say it was anything but an afterthought that you waited for me, you're lying. And we both know it."

John threw a quick look at Rodney, taking in the tension and the fear on his face. "Rodney, can we talk about this later? You know, later, when we're not approaching two hive ships?" he asked, his own voice sharper than he'd meant for it to be.

"No," Rodney answered forcefully. "No, we cannot talk about this 'later'. There may not be a later. If this thing between us is supposed to work then you have to accept that I'm a grown up and know what I'm doing. You may be the upgraded version, and yes, your job is to protect me, but that doesn't mean you can dictate my life."

Knowing that he was pouting didn't help John in trying to wipe it off his face.

"And don't pout," Rodney's rebuke came immediately. "I want us to be equal."

That last sentence was so pleading and determined that John didn't know what to say. So he concentrated on his flying for a moment. "Rodney," he finally said, "we are equal."

"Yeah, right," Rodney huffed, crossing his arms in front of him, clearly disbelieving.

"What do you want me to say to that, Rodney? I felt the urge to protect you long before I turned into John 2.0 as you put it," John answered. "It's got nothing to do with regaining my memories. And I know you're a grown up and capable of making your own decisions. I'm not trying to take that from you." Rodney snorted and John hurriedly continued, "Really. I just … I'm just feeling that little bit more protective about you right now. I can't help it." He shrugged awkwardly with one shoulder. "Look, give me a couple of weeks to get my shit together. Let's face it, I just regained a whole chunk of memories, then I figured out what Chaya did, then this happened. And I think … maybe you could cut me some slack on the whole 'overprotective' thing for just a bit longer."

Rodney grimaced, but he visibly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing and his arms uncrossing. He even reached out to pat John's shoulders awkwardly a couple of times. Then he sighed and said, "Yes, yes you're right."

"Thank you," John said, grateful for small favors. "Now, let's concentrate on our friends here, alright?" He pointed at the hive ships with his chin and then started preparing the drones. "This is something we'd never have found in the database." He concentrated briefly and four drones were released in quick succession, they started rotating around each other at an accelerating velocity and slammed into the first hive at maximum speed.

"Whoa," Rodney breathed beside him and watched with wide eyes as John sent the next quadruple of drones off to take out the last hive ship. "That's massive damage."

John smiled and looked at Rodney. "About the same as a naquadah enhanced nuclear bomb," he said. "I knew you'd like it." They grinned at each other and then John turned the Puddlejumper around to go back home. Now they only had to take care of the Darts, then all of this would finally be over.

Ooo00O00ooO

John leaned back in his chair, watching the nervous fidgeting of the people around him with mild amusement. The meeting of the senior staff – well, pretty much most of the people who were still on Atlantis – would begin any moment now and John felt calm. Much calmer than Rodney, that much was for certain. Rodney was worried about the IOA, worried that now Samantha Carter had outright witnessed what John was that there would be problems. That Sam would turn him over to the IOA and John would be forced back to Earth and end up as a lab rat for the scientists at Area 51 or the SGC. John had almost laughed out loud when Rodney had voiced those concerns, but had restrained himself.

It was somehow sweet, how much Rodney worried, even though he hadn't yet grasped all the implications of what John's status as a Lantean – an Ancient, meant. Well, neither had the others, obviously, so John really couldn't blame him.

"I think we should start now," Sam said, looking at the assembled people in the conference room. There were Teyla and Ronon, Rodney, Lorne, Zelenka and Sam and, of course, John himself. "Those of you who are not familiar with the circumstances of the re-charge of the ZPM and the destruction of the last two hive ships might have wondered what has happened. Well, I think it is safe to say, that Colonel …" she threw John a quick glance as if trying to estimate that it was right to still call him that and John gave an almost imperceptible nod, "… Sheppard is responsible for the fact that we're all still alive and Atlantis is still intact. As it is," she hesitated, searching John's eyes with her own once again, "I think it would be good if Colonel Sheppard explained a bit about his … mission … and himself, before we go on. John, would you be so kind?" There was something in her voice John couldn't quite name. Relief? Gratitude? Greediness? It was an odd mix and John wasn't sure he wanted to know just yet.

"Thanks, Colonel Carter," John replied, slight sarcasm coloring his words. He had to force himself to use her rank and last name rather than her first name. Ever since John had remembered and re-gained part of his powers, he had caught himself calling her 'Sam'. As if his subconscious had recognized that she wasn't really his superior any more and now he was slipping. Not that it mattered much in the long run, his cover was blown now, anyway.

"Well, I'll try and make a long story short, so I'll just give the facts, if that's alright with you," John began his speech and since it had been a rhetorical question he just continued on. "The statue that zapped me a few weeks back – Rodney and Zelenka were right, it didn't give me any memories. In fact, the memories were already inside of me, from the day I was born. They were packed up tight and secure until the I would be ready to remember again. Remember who I used to be. The statue really only initiated the process of "unpacking" those memories. It just gave me back what was rightfully mine. About ten thousand years ago, I was a Lantean soldier named Tural Nah. When my people left Pegasus and abandoned the life we had seeded to deal with the Wraith on its own, a few of us were not quite happy with the decision. We thought since we had created that life and were, to a certain extent, also responsible for the Wraith, we should do more. Protect those we had created. But most of my people were not interested in wasting any resources on what they perceived as little more than a school project. They were just interested in saving their own skins." John knew bitterness was audible in his voice, but he honestly couldn't help himself.

"Most of my kind that ascended never looked back. But a small group of us couldn't just accept that attitude of irresponsibility. We couldn't stand by and watch our work being destroyed, the hopes we had had for Pegasus. But there are non-interference rules and so my friends and I had to watch helplessly as the Wraith culled the people we had abandoned, the humans we had created. When it became clear that one day Atlantis would be found and our descendants would return to Pegasus, we decided to take action. We discussed it thoroughly and I volunteered to go back to Earth as a human child, unaware of who or what I was and had been. I'm not entirely human any more now, not since I regained the memories of my former life. I'm not ascended either, though. I'm something else. I'm the one individual that is outside all rules. Neither ascended, nor human. Normal non-interference rules do not apply to me. I'm a more hands on kind of guy, anyway." The last sentence was spoken in his best John Sheppard flyboy voice, hoping it would ease the tension that had settled over the conference room. He knew that was mostly due to the fact that when talking about himself and the life he had led, he sounded less like John and more like Tural, like the person he had been back then.

"My mission here is to protect Atlantis, protect our descendants and make sure you guys stay out of trouble. If I just happened to get rid of the Wraith while I was here that would have been an added bonus. Simply put, I'm the cavalry. Even though I'm the only one here to help. We couldn't risk drawing attention to what we were doing. So, as to how the ZPM got recharged … I did it. I'm made of energy after all, even though this body is still mostly human. I'd rather not do it like this again, though, there are less uncomfortable and dangerous ways to recharge a ZPM," John said matter-of-factly and grinned at Radek's gasp.

"The two remaining hives were taken out the good old fashioned way, with a 'jumper. Let's just say you don't know half of what they can do, or Atlantis," John grinned again, this time at the gleam in Lorne's eyes.

Shrugging his shoulders casually John concluded, "That's the very condensed version. The finer details can wait a little longer I guess." He took a deep breath and lowered his mental shields just a fraction. A lot of hurt feelings, some calm and happiness, some worry and yes, even a fair amount of glee and greed. Nothing he hadn't expected, though.

Sam seemed to gather herself and she smiled at him in a way that could only be described as slightly patronizing. "Thank you, John. Maybe we should discuss now how we're going to handle the situation regarding the SGC and the IOA. I'm sure they will be delighted to learn about you and the knowledge you can give us. You will be such a valuable asset against all threats to Earth, including the Ori, but of course, we would love to keep you as the military leader of Atlantis. I'm sure both the IOA and SGC will agree with me that your cause will be best served here on Atlantis, provided that you agree to work together with them and supply the information they need." She was beaming with excitement and there was the greed John had felt, visible in her eyes now. Well, she was in for a surprise.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Sam," John began, deliberately ignoring the way her face fell. He kept his voice neutral with just a hint of the regret he felt. John had known he most probably would have to shoot down a few ambitious ideas of hers and other scientists. But he also knew if he didn't establish his position now, right at the outset, they'd walk all over him and his mission would fail. They'd demand more than he could reasonably give. He couldn't solve the problems of both Earth and Atlantis at the same time. And if there was a choice to be made, Atlantis would win out. It was his mission after all, his home, more than Earth could ever be, even though John felt a strong and affectionate connection to their descendants on Earth as well. Otherwise, he wouldn't have agreed to protect them on their journey to the Pegasus galaxy.

Suppressing a sigh, John mentally prepared himself to state some uncomfortable facts to her. "Maybe I've not made myself clear enough but my mission is here in the Pegasus galaxy. Atlantis is my mission. I can't divide my attention between Atlantis and Earth. I can't afford to spend my time and energy on solving problems that are not the problems of Pegasus. I'm really sorry I can't be that for you, but if I did that, I'd fail on both accounts and I'd rather get it right for Atlantis this time." John looked at her calmly, knowing she was upset and hurt. He really was sorry he couldn't help her and be what she wanted him to be. But John was unwilling to risk the success of his mission for her greed or the lust for knowledge of some of the other scientists. No matter how much he liked them.

"The Wraith aren't the only threat to Atlantis and Pegasus and you know it," John went on, his voice still calm and controlled. It wouldn't do for him to sound like he was lecturing her. "We all know it. And right now, we're still the ones with the bigger problems. And quite frankly, I'm not gonna play lab rat for the SGC or IOA and I'm not the answer man. I'm no oracle either. I don't know what will happen in the future, or what we will encounter, but I can tell you one thing, I'll be taking no chances with the safety of Atlantis. I really am sorry, Sam, but I don't think I can do much for Earth. Someone else is watching out for them, though, I promise." John knew his friends had been monitoring Earth since he had been placed there and hadn't stopped doing so just because he had come back to Pegasus.

"You'd refuse?" Sam asked incredulously and John could feel the tension in the room rise another notch. Especially Rodney. He was so knotted up; John would need to give him a massage later on to loosen those cramped muscles. The others remained completely silent, watching the interaction between him and Sam with bated breath. John wasn't sure what to make of their reactions. Sam, however, looked scandalized now. "But you have a duty," she went on glaring at him angrily. "You said it yourself you were raised on Earth. You were human until you came here and your memories were activated. What about the responsibility you were talking about? What about the vow you made to your country, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard? Are you not honoring your vows any more, now that you are a higher being?" She obviously knew she'd struck low but from the look on her face she didn't really give a damn. She most probably wanted to exploit the fact that he was what she'd called 'a higher being' to the fullest.

"My vows Colonel Carter, are my concern, I believe," John replied coldly. He hated the way she tried to make him feel guilty. The way she tried to force him to do something he couldn't and wouldn't do. "You do realize that I'm not just an American soldier anymore? I'm not just John Sheppard, I'm also Commander Tural Nah, a Lantean soldier. I took an oath, long before I joined the Air Force, long before any of your ancestors were even born. I took a vow to protect Atlantis at all costs, and I mean all costs. If you'll allow me, I will honor both of them. Everything I can do for this expedition and the people here, I certainly will. It's unfortunate you want to make this personal, Colonel, but the only answer I can give you is no. No, I will not agree to the things you have planned on telling the IOA or SGC."

"Well, fortunately, that is not for you to decide. I am still the leader of this expedition and I still formally outrank you, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard. I will tell the SGC and the IOA whatever I deem necessary. Let them decide how to handle the situation," Sam said, her barely suppressed anger evident on her face and in her voice. She clearly didn't like to be told she couldn't play with what she perceived to be her newest toy.

John closed his eyes briefly at Rodney's shocked gasp. When he opened his eyes again, he had schooled his face into a neutral expression, hating what he was about to do. He had hoped she wouldn't force him to do this, but she really gave him no other choice. Trying to appeal to her one last time, he quietly said, "Please, Sam, don't do this to me. Don't force me to bring out the big guns. Don't force me to threaten you when all I want to do is help."

"Threaten us?" Sam repeated, suddenly looking pale. "But you said you're a protector. You risked your life for Atlantis, for us." She sounded somewhere between scared and angry, glaring at him with a cold look in her eyes. "Are you actually going to hurt the people you claim you vowed to protect? And didn't you say that you're still mostly human? Are you sure we can't harm you? Take you out? Ship you back to Earth whether you like it or not?" Determined now, stubborn and a little smug. John smiled to himself. She really believed that she could take him on if she had to. That whatever weapons they had on Earth or on Atlantis could be turned against him. "I really never thought I had to threaten you to help us. I'm so disappointed in you, John."

John really couldn't believe her naivety. Looking at her, she had to see the pity in his eyes, but he couldn't help it. She was so desperate in her hunger for knowledge that she was deluding herself into thinking that she or anyone of the IOA or SGC had power over him. Gentling his voice, John said, "Sam, I may not be ascended but you saw me recharge a ZPM. Do you really think I'm weak? Do you really believe that this is the best I can do? Just because I had to push the limits of my human body a bit to release that amount of power doesn't mean I can't protect myself properly." John kept his voice even and calm. He didn't need to raise his voice, didn't need to use a sharp tone. His words would be enough to get his message across.

"And there's something else." John went on. "Sam, think about it. I'm a Lantean. I'm what you humans call an Ancient. What do you think will happen if I claim Atlantis for my own? She's mine. My home. My responsibility. What do you think would happen if I demanded you go back to Earth? Just hand her over to me and leave? And even if you refused, I could make sure none of you can ever access her again. All it would take is one single command from me and she'll be completely useless to any of you," John wasn't bragging, he was stating facts. Facts she either had chosen to ignore or simply hadn't considered at all.

"You may think you can order me around or make me do things I really don't want to do, but that's were you're wrong. I've chosen to be one of you. I'm choosing to obey your orders. Since I got my memories back, I could have done a lot of things you wouldn't like, but I didn't," John told her patiently. "I didn't, because I didn't want to. I like you. All of you. You're my family now. My friends. I don't want that to change. Please don't try to threaten me." John caught Rodney's eyes and the wonder, the revelation on his face at what John had just said sunk in was just incredible to watch. Rodney was genuinely happy that John was safe on Atlantis and that no one would be able to take him away against his will. That look alone had been worth the whole ordeal.

"I'm not trying to threaten you when I ask you to honor your vows. Vows you don't even deny you took. The people of Earth need your knowledge. We have a right to it. We're your descendants. We're why you're here. And I will not have you withhold information that could be vital to the survival of Earth and Atlantis. I will talk to the IOA and the SGC and I'll advise that you should stay here and remain the Military leader of Atlantis, but I am not willing to outright lie to them about the things you could to for us. Be for us. I'm sorry that you can't understand that. I guess we will just have to take our chances and deal with your … petulance … like we would with any service member who disobeys orders," she gave John a hard look before she lowered her gaze to her hands that were folded on the table. John felt almost sorry for her. She really didn't know what she was doing. She couldn't comprehend the harm she would do. She couldn't imagine the consequences if the SGC and IOA really forced his hand.

"Gentlemen, we will go over the status reports of the different departments at a later time. For now, I believe I have a report to give. If you would please excuse me." She looked at Radek, Carson and Rodney pointedly, shooting down Rodney's obvious attempt to protest with a glare and a "I said later, Rodney."

John suppressed a sigh. Things were going to turn nasty pretty soon, of that he was sure. He just hoped he wouldn't lose the people he called his friends over this mess. Sometimes John wondered how many sacrifices were too many.

He watched the doctors mutely pack up their things and rise, while Ronon was still sitting in his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking murderous. Even Teyla's long-suffering patience had been put to the test, if the look on her face was anything to go by. All of them had been silent throughout the meeting, more silent than John was used to. But he couldn't blame them. Sam was in a mood and it was perfectly clear that she was not going to change her mind. Not for John and not for anyone else. Opposing her would serve nothing but make her even angrier. And in the end, she'd be the one to call the shots anyway. She was the leader of the expedition. The decision was hers.

Lowering his barriers slightly, John was a little surprised that besides anger, there was grim determination in all of his friends. He would like to think it was in sympathy for him. With a last glance at Sam, who wasn't meeting anyone's eyes, John left the room. There was nothing more he could do now.

As the doors to the conference room closed behind him, John found himself surrounded by his team and his friends. "Colonel, we need to talk to you," Radek said, looking angrier than he had during all the conference. "We need to discuss what to say to IOA and SGC in our reports and how to make sure they do not get their hands on you, ano?"

"Come on, we can talk in the infirmary. The Colonel promised me some tests anyway. Didn't you?" Carson asked pointedly and John grinned. The way it looked, Carson had already halfway forgiven him. Seeing Sam's reaction to finding out whom and what John was had most probably made Carson realize just why John had been reluctant to tell anyone.

"Yeah, I guess I did, Doc," John replied, grinning a bit. His friends would stand by him. They wouldn't abandon him to fight alone against whatever Sam, the IOA and the SGC had planned. That thought warmed John more than he had ever thought possible.

The End.

**Continue reading by going to the next chapter to read: _Total Recall 6 - For they don't know what they are doing_**

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**Cassandra's Author Notes:** This story practically wrote itself. I remember when Mel pitched the idea to me – and yes, it was one idea that kicked this off: John recharging a ZPM. I have to say that it worked out so very well and I had tons of fun writing it.

**Melinda's Author Notes:** Oh, I remember that conversation all too well. It all started out with this really silly idea I had right before I fell asleep. And well, I told Cass about it. And there we were. Sometimes I'm really amazed how my half assed, half-joke ideas turn into actual stories. *shakes head* Well, it was fun to write anyway.

**Cass**: are we ever going to let John and/or Rodney slip up and someone else realise who/what John is now?  
**Mel**:actually, I thought of that last night and I think it should be ... you know something big**  
Cass**: life-threatening  
epic?  
Lol  
**Mel**:I thought about another attack and then the ZPM could be depleted and John (who pretty much is made of energy or something, right?) could re-charge it in a very … creative way? As in recharging it himself? Which is NOT the way it's usually done of course.I suddenly had this image in my head of John demanding Rodney hand him the depleted ZPM and then the thing just lights up in John's hands ...


	6. For they don't know what they're doing

**Title:** For they don't know what they're doing**  
Series:** Sixth in "Total Recall"  
**Author:** ca_pierson and darkmoore**  
Beta:** neevebrody**  
Fandom:** Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate: SG-1**  
Pairing:** McKay/Sheppard**  
Rating:** NC-17  
**Word count:** 18.769  
**Warnings:** violence**  
Genre:** AU, crossover**  
Disclaimer:** Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to us, neither do the characters. This is a transformative work and we aren't making any money from it.**  
Author's Notes:** Our thanks go out to neevebrody for betaing this story. We know it was a lot of work! Thanks!

**Summary:** With the Wraith gone and John's secret revealed the problems have only begun. Especially when some people simply won't listen when they are given fair warning and need to be taught that their actions always have consequences.

* * *

Total Recall 6 - For they don't know what they're doing  
By Cassandra and Melinda Pierson

The conference room looked different than normal. Instead of the usual round table, it was set up in a way that reminded John instantly of a court. Two generals, four members of the IOA, one Daniel Jackson and Colonel Samantha Carter were sitting at the table in front of him, looking at him with various degrees of … lust, greed, and want. John didn't even need to lower his shield to be able to read those emotions in the people across from him, they were so painfully obvious. In fact, those feelings were so intense they were giving John a headache already. The conference had been going on for a little over an hour, but to John it felt like eternity. None of his answers would satisfy them and they just wouldn't accept his "no", either. John could tell that the way the trial, no, "conference" was going was at least worrying one man in the room. Dr. Daniel Jackson looked positively livid and he was also the only one from whom John could read an actual sliver of ... respect, maybe even fear from his expression and composure.

"I've told you that I can't do that. My mission is confined to Pegasus in general and Atlantis in particular. Going back to Earth is out of the question," John repeated as patiently as he could, considering the many times he'd already made that statement.

"That is unacceptable, Colonel Sheppard," Natasha Grimle said instantly. Which was pretty much the same thing one of them had answered whenever John had said 'no'. Maybe not the exact same words, but the same meaning. It was starting to get ridiculous. "The information you could give us could prove to be vital for anyone on Earth. Your understanding of Ancient culture, Ancient technology and weaponry will be of the utmost value to us. Of course, we do not plan on keeping you on Earth indefinitely, after you have provided the information we need you will be allowed to return to Atlantis. Whether it will be as the military leader or in another, more appropriate position will have to be discussed among all parties involved. Obviously the IOA and the US Military will have some say in that," Grimle's tone was stern, matching her frowning expression and John had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the woman. They were getting nowhere at all with this talk. They just didn't want to understand that no matter how they tried to sugar-coat it, the answer was still 'no'. Maybe they were still hoping he'd suddenly change his mind. Who knew?

It was maddening. In the same way that it was maddening that they hadn't even given him a table. He felt way too vulnerable sitting there, alone at the front, all of them watching him closely. Like a specimen under a lens. With people waiting for him to move or to do something special. John gave himself a moment to ball his hands into fists before he relaxed again, his hands on his thighs, a small smile on his lips. He'd been determined that they wouldn't get to him when he'd walked into the room and they damn well wouldn't. "As unacceptable as you may find that, Miss Grimle, I can't help you."

"That's nonsense. You just don't want to help us," General Owens, one of the brass who had come along, fumed, his head turning red with anger. "You are still a member of the United States Armed Forces and you will do as you are told. We are trying to show our good intentions here, giving you the opportunity to speak up for yourself after your deceit. And all we get for our generosity is the attitude of a spoiled, petulant child. You are forgetting your place, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard," he spat, glaring at John with so much jealousy and anger that John had to take a deep calming breath.

This was going to get him nowhere, John suddenly realized. They weren't going to accept his inability to provide their answers and he couldn't change his stance on it. The worst part was that John did want to help. He wanted to help so much. But he couldn't. John didn't want to leave Atlantis again. Earth was like a dead thing to him after the whispers of his city inside of his head. Suddenly sick and tired of the whole circus, John sighed and closed his eyes. The stab of glee at that was like a physical blow and John felt like screaming. He suppressed the urge to jump up and run and calmly said, "You're mistaken, sir, it's not that I don't want to help. I simply can't. My mission is to protect Atlantis, to protect the people in Pegasus." He shrugged and looked at each of the people in front of him in turn. "And you're wrong, I know my place and it's here. In Atlantis."

General Owens stood up, blatantly trying to intimidate John, before holding out a piece of paper to him. "Your marching orders, Colonel Sheppard. And you'll damn well obey them or I'll make sure you're be locked up in the bottom of the SGC and never see the light of day again." He paused, waiting for an answer, but when John remained silent, he hissed, "Is that clear, soldier?"

That did it.

John had tried to hold onto his temper for the entire time these people had infested his city, but enough was enough. He forgot that he wanted the situation to end peacefully, that he didn't want to be their enemy. How dare they treat him this way? He wasn't a prisoner. "You wish," John forced out through clenched teeth. His hands were shaking with anger and he balled them into fists again, unwilling to give Owens the satisfaction of seeing how much he'd gotten to John. "You are still under the assumption that you can order me around," he told them icily, his derision clearly audible, "see, that is where you are terribly mistaken."

"You're way out of line, Colonel," Owens hissed, his face taking on an unhealthy shade of red.

John forced himself to take a calming breath then smiled coldly at the General, enjoying it when the man flinched away from it. "I would have given you all the information I am able to give, if you would have just asked me and not tried to take me away from my home. How often do I have to tell you that I cannot go back to Earth?" John asked. His skin was itching from the waves of anger and greed he could feel coming from the people around him. Giving up the attempt to suppress the need to move, John jumped up and began to pace behind his chair, using it as a kind of shield. "Yes, I took a vow. In fact, I took two of those and I would have honored both to my best abilities," John announced, his gaze flickering along the panel with a glare every time he turned, trying to gauge what they were thinking. There was no use keeping up a façade of friendliness now, they certainly weren't doing it. Which relieved John of the obligation of doing so, as well. He was sick of this. Sick of having to pretend. Sick of these people thinking they could rule over him like that. Atlantis was his home. Nothing would make him leave her again. Nothing.

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but John glared at her and she shut it again with a snap. He wasn't interested in what she had to say for herself, or in the defense of the SGC or the IOA. There was nothing she could say to change his mind.

Focusing on what he wanted them to understand, he continued. "Since you came here you have done nothing but demand and order. You fairly reek of greed, all of you. It makes me sick. I came here to help. To protect. Not to be your personal guinea pig. I'm certainly not going to play 'answer man' for any of you, either." He finally came to a stop again behind his chair and rested his hands on the backrest. "I'm a simple soldier and I've sworn to protect this city and this galaxy. Think what you want, but I'll be damned if I screw up this mission just because you decided that you know better than we do what's important and what's not," he told them, his voice even and as normal as he could make it. It took a lot more effort than he liked; inside of him, his emotions were in upheaval.

"Now, listen Sheppard, it's our lives you're talking about and I think we've done pretty well defending Earth up to now. We do know what we're doing and what's important and what isn't and–" Owens started to say and John lost what little grip he had on his temper.

"No, you don't," John roared, no longer holding back anything. Owens had no ideas of the dangers that were out there, he had no idea that John couldn't just hand out his knowledge willy-nilly. It'd be like … putting a loaded weapon into the hands of a child. They wanted everything at once and now. No patience, no idea what they were getting themselves into and it just made John so angry. "You have no idea whatsoever what you're demanding from me. And as far as I'm concerned you can take your marching orders and shove them up your self-righteous ass," John hissed and the anger in his voice had finally broken through Owens obliviousness and he sat down, his face pale and his eyes wide, "because I'm sure as hell not leaving Atlantis." Tense silence followed that outbreak of John's fury and most of the people sitting there were just staring at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head. Of all of them, only O'Neill and Jackson looked like they agreed with him and it was good to know that they were on his side.

Lifting one of his hands from the backrest John pointed at the papers General Owens was still holding and set them on fire without hurting the man himself. He watched with satisfaction as General Owens dropped them with a little squeak and jumped up before ending up in an undignified sprawl when he stumbled over his fallen chair. "As for the locking up part, I'd like to see you try. If you'll excuse me now, I don't think I have any more to say to this topic." With that, John strode out of the room without waiting for permission. These people technically outranked him, but John couldn't stay there. He was sure that if he didn't leave right fucking then he'd do something drastic and unforgivable. Possibly by giving them a little taste of what he truly was capable of and then, he knew, all he'd have gained would be making them the enemy. John didn't want to terrify them enough to make them look for a way to kill him. Not that they actually could, but they would at least try. Right now, they were just pissed off and still underestimating him so badly it wasn't even funny.

John didn't want to fight them. He really didn't. He'd have loved nothing more than to help them in any way possible, working together towards a bigger goal. _Why can't they understand?_ he thought, helplessly. With a mindset like theirs, it would be pretty damn hard to ever show them what he meant.

Furious about the whole situation and yet unable to regret what he'd done to save his city, John strode through the corridors, people staring at him as he passed. Some in awe, some with the same greed his judges had held. It was disgusting. He glared at anybody who even looked like they wanted to approach him and finally ended up in his quarters. The one thing he needed right then was to be alone, to work through what was happening and calculate the probabilities of what could happen. John had no doubts that somehow he would get through this power struggle with the SGC. Even if they put someone else in charge of the military, Atlantis was still his. They couldn't take her from him. And as long as he was still here, they couldn't take Rodney from him either.

John didn't need anything else.

"John?" Rodney asked, his voice, rough with sleep, cutting through John's thoughts.

Halting in his restless pacing, John turned towards his bed. Rodney propped himself up on his elbows and looked at John with a confused expression. "I'm sorry," John said, closing his eyes. Rodney had worked until nearly 3 am the night before and John had simply forgotten that he might still be sleeping. "I didn't mean to wake you, go back to sleep." He turned around and made to leave, but Rodney called out to him again. "Everything's alright, Rodney," he told him, but Rodney already looked more awake and he was frowning.

"You don't look alright," he simply said. "John?"

"They were being unreasonable and I lost my temper." Admitting that to Rodney was easier than he'd thought. He still felt angry and while he really wanted to be alone, Rodney's presence calmed him. Sighing, he stripped and crawled into bed as well, wrapping himself around Rodney, whose arms came up almost automatically. It was soothing, to have Rodney's hands on his back, gently rubbing up and down, to feel him breathe. "It wasn't a meeting," John said, "it was a trial. They want me on Earth, to strengthen their defenses and when I told them 'no' they tried to intimidate and threaten me."

"I'm sure General O'Neill–" Rodney started, but John snorted and he broke off.

"General O'Neill barely said a word. But Jackson pretty much played the role of my advocate." Already John felt much better. "I don't think this is the last I've heard of the matter," he finally said as one of Rodney's hands moved up, running through his hair. "Something is going to happen. Something is going to give, I can feel it."

"Well, what can they really do? Seriously, what could they do to make you reconsider?" Rodney asked, sounding oddly reassured in John's abilities to withstand whatever the IOA threw their way. "Nothing. You're not going anywhere and they can just go fuck themselves."

John smiled. "Yeah," he agreed readily, wanting Rodney to be right. The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't go away, but at least he didn't feel like he wanted to raise the shield on the next batch of 'diplomats' anymore. He was still thinking when Rodney's breathing evened out and soft snuffling noises told John that he'd fallen asleep again. "Yeah, I hope so," John whispered and closed his eyes. He was suspended anyway, might as well take a nap. With that, he closed his eyes, his ear pressed against Rodney's bare skin, listening to his heart beat.

Ooo00O00ooO

"That went well," Daniel commented dryly as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. He looked about as exasperated as Sam felt. This whole meeting hadn't gone even remotely as planned. The IOA representatives were more threatening than Sam had thought was wise in their circumstances and General Owens had been outright patronizing. Sure, Sam wanted the information John had as well, wanted it badly, but still ... something about Owens was off.

Sam didn't doubt for one moment that if Owens found a way, he would really do what he'd said, that he'd lock John up somewhere in the SGC and never let him out again. Which came as a bit of a surprise to Sam because usually allies were treated with a bit more care. It seemed that the fact that John had been – and still was – a member of the Air Force, had given Owens the impression that he could treat him like any other lower ranking service member.

A sliver of doubt crept up Sam's spine, cold and persistent. Doubt that her hasty decision to inform the SGC and IOA of the true identity of John Sheppard had been a good one. She felt like she had somehow betrayed John, as if she had delivered him into the hands of the enemy. Sure, Sam wasn't too fond of the IOA either, but she hadn't expected the Spanish Inquisition when she had been informed the IOA and SGC representatives wished to talk to Colonel Sheppard in person. Hell, she'd seen enemies who had been treated better than what had gone on in this room over the past hour.

"I'll have him locked up for this," General Owens said, his head bright red with anger and hands balled to fists on top of the table. Sam was about to say something to appease him, when Jack finally gave Owens an impatient look Sam knew only too well.

"And what the hell did you think he'd do? You've heard the man, he's got his orders and judging by the things he's done during the last few days, I'd say he takes them very seriously. He re-charged a ZPM. With his bare hands. What more proof do you want that he's actually telling the truth? He's just trying to do his job and your threatening him and trying to bully him into giving in wasn't exactly helping." Jack said, glaring at the other General.

"Well, we should not forget that Mr. Sheppard willfully lied to the IOA and the SGC and is now actively disobeying orders given to him by his superiors. That kind of behavior is completely unacceptable for a member of the Atlantis expedition. And do I need to remind all of you that we need the information Mr. Sheppard can give us?" Woolsey, ever the bureaucrat chimed in, mouth tight, stern glare in place. He radiated so much disapproval it was almost comical. His behavior could have been really funny if the situation hadn't been so dire.

"I say we take him out and bring him back to Earth with us. By force if necessary. He's got a duty to his country and he's sworn an oath. It's about time he honored it," General Owens snapped, slamming his hands down onto the table in front of him and Sam inwardly cringed. This was going to end badly. What had she done? It was her fault … she had done this to John. She was responsible for the situation John was in. Even though Sam knew, she had had no way of knowing the IOA and the SGC would behave in such an atrocious manner she felt guilty for the whole sordid mess.

"You forget that he's an Ancient," Daniel interjected, his tone serious. "He could very well claim Atlantis for himself and make us leave. Legally, Atlantis is his. I don't think it's wise to outright threaten Colonel Sheppard. From what Doctor McKay told me about him and what I know of him, he's not going to just take it lightly. He's very protective of Atlantis and the people he considers to be his responsibility, and I have no doubt he could have done exactly what the Ancients from the Tria did, when we rescued them from their near light speed journey. But he didn't. He saved Atlantis from certain destruction, throwing his cover wide open. We shouldn't forget that."

"He's right, sir," Sam backed Daniel up immediately, hoping that if enough people spoke up for John they could still prevent an escalation. "Colonel Sheppard is one of the most protective people I've met. He's risked his life when he recharged the ZPM and he has shown his willingness to die for Atlantis and the expedition on numerous occasions." Yes, John was like that, and Sam had stabbed him in the back the first chance she got. She really wished she had listened to him. Or at least wanted to be able to go back in time and hit herself over the head viciously for being such an idiot. "Daniel's also right about Tural claiming Atlantis as his own. John told me explicitly that he can make the city useless to any of us. And I believe him, sir." She really did believe him. Now. Now that it might already be too late.

To Sam's great surprise, General Owens laughed. It was a cruel sound and it made Sam's skin crawl. "Claim Atlantis for himself? With what army?" Owens asked, sounding somewhere between amused and patronizing. "He's just one man and he's mostly human. Sheppard admitted it himself. He's no more ascended than any of us are and I doubt he could withstand some of our more advanced weapons. That little parlor trick he showed us earlier shouldn't be a problem. As for the city, we have other people with a strong gene, Jack here is one of them. All Sheppard can do is make threats he can't follow through. The only power he has is the one that we are giving him." Owens insisted.

"With all due respect, sir, I think that's where you're wrong. But that's beside the point. The real question is: do we really want to take the chance if he actually can do what he says he can?" Sam tried to reason.

"Also, I'm pretty sure you can't just deny his claim on Atlantis. He was born here and he grew up here. It's legally his. I don't think …" Daniel's attempt to talk sense into the General was cut off by Owens slamming his hands down onto the table again with a loud bang, making Sam jump.

"Enough of that insanity!" he practically screamed. "There is no way we are giving up Atlantis to one of our own people. If he doesn't want to follow our orders and actually tries to go that way, well, who's to say that he actually is an Ancient and hasn't had a breakdown and lost it out here?"

Sam felt disgusted by the whole thing, but she also knew her opinion didn't matter, not even a little bit, so she kept her mouth shut. Daniel didn't. He just looked at Owens oddly and pushed his glasses back up from where they'd slipped a bit on his nose. "You don't want to go there, General," he said calmly. "He's gone and unlocked his files in the system, you've seen them, they're genuine. He's Tural Nah, one of the commanders of the Lantean strike force during the Wraith war. There is no doubt about that. He is an Ancient. And I believe his story." He grimaced as if he'd eaten something especially sour before continuing, "Though, if he really did want to help us at any point, I think you've managed to properly alienate him. I know we all want his knowledge, but you can't force him to give that up. He's a Lantean and–" Sam smiled as Daniel's voice took on the tone he used when he was lecturing, but Grimle interrupted him before he could get started.

"I don't care if he's Kermit the frog," Grimle said, her brows furrowed with a deep frown. "He's not a genuine Ancient, not like the people from the Tria. We're not giving up Atlantis to him–"

"That's not actually what he wanted anyway, if you've been listening to him," Jack interrupted her, his voice deadpan. She glared at him and Jack sent her a small smile that seemed to disarm her. "Jesus, you're all acting like he stabbed you in the back personally. He was just John Sheppard until he got zapped and while, yeah, he should have told us when it happened, I can't really blame him. Can you?" Jack's gaze went to the solitary chair in front of him, he nodded towards him. "Really, can you blame him for not announcing it to the world?"

General Owens glared at Jack for a moment. He was still red-faced and looked unhappier than before. "It was his duty, O'Neill, he's a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force."

"Right now," Daniel interjected, "I don't think he's dealing as well with the dichotomy of his two personalities as he wants us to think he is. Did you notice how his speaking pattern changed? He's not finished merging yet. I think he's trying to be a good human at the same time as being the person they sent back to help us."

"Even more reason for him to come to Earth, to get psychological help with that. I don't see why he's so stubborn about it," Woolsey said. Sam had to give Woolsey that much, he hadn't been half as annoying as Owens and Grimle during the whole torturous session. Sure, he'd spouted the same nonsense as the other two, but he looked decidedly more nervous than the rest of the people sent to talk to John.

Suddenly, Sam had enough. She had to say something. Taking a deep breath she said, "He's here to help Atlantis. That's his mission and he's done so, even while he didn't remember anything. John Sheppard has saved this expedition more often than anybody else. From what we know about descension he doesn't remember everything and I do believe that if the Ancients sent someone to protect Atlantis and the people of the Pegasus galaxy, then there's reason to believe someone else was sent to do the same thing for Earth."

Grimle jumped up and whirled on her. "That's absolutely ridiculous and I don't think that's the case. I think that Sheppard is keeping something from us, that he's lying and that he's not actually here on a mission," she spat. "Something needs to be done to bring him in line. Ancient or not he's still human, just like General Owens said. And it's his duty to give us what he can to make sure Earth survives the Ori. We're under constant threat and he's just sitting there spouting something about missions and duties and how Atlantis is his home. I don't buy it and furthermore, I believe his attitude to be treasonous."

Jack stood up as well, "And I think this is quite enough. Let's blow this Popsicle stand, the President will want to hear our report. And I know mine surely won't be favorable." Grumbled assent made Jack roll his eyes heavenward. "For you," he added, then turned and left with Daniel on his heels and Sam hurriedly caught up with them. "Knuckleheads," she heard him mutter to himself and grinned at that.

Ooo00O00ooO

_"Stargate Operations to McKay."_

"Go ahead," Rodney said, elbow deep in the innards of an Ancient console. It had been broken for a while now, but there had never been enough time to actually go and fix it. They weren't really using it either, so it hadn't been a priority. Until John had pointed out that it could be helpful, that was.

_"There's a call from Midway Station for you. Should I forward it?"_

Midway Station? What the hell could they possibly want from him to warrant a dial-up before the scheduled one at the end of the week? "Yeah, forward it. I can't really get away from here right now." Anything could happen to the parts he'd had to arrange around the room if he went somewhere now. His people were like magpies. If it was shiny and Ancient, it would vanish into repairs quicker than McKay could say 'stop it, you morons' unless he stayed and protected them.

_"Doctor McKay, this is Midway Station. We need you here for repairs,"_ a crisp male voice said, probably an engineer manning the station. Even over the radio, he sounded rather nervous. _"One of the systems you designed - the sensor array - is defective. We're not quite sure what's wrong and–"_

"And you are morons," Rodney helpfully finished the sentence for the engineer. "Yes, yes, I completely understand." He gently pried a crystal from its place and inspected it closely. It didn't seem broken, but he'd have to look at it under a scanner before he could be sure. "I have to finish this first, but I could probably fit your little problem into my busy schedule in two hours. I can't possibly get away from Atlantis before then."

_"Yes, of course,"_ the man answered and if he sounded a little bit like he was annoyed then Rodney didn't care.

"Two hours. Do make sure you have all the tools where I need them. My time is valuable and I won't waste it waiting for the equipment to be brought from storage," Rodney muttered. He carefully put the crystal in a box with the three others he'd unearthed that might be faulty. Rodney didn't wait for a reply. "McKay out," he snapped and touched his radio to close the channel.

"I see you're very busy," John suddenly said from behind Rodney. "Need a hand? Or two?"

Throwing a look at John, who seemed a little rough around the edges, Rodney nodded. "Take a look at the crystals and tell me if they're broken or not," he instructed, pointing to the box with his chin.

"As long as you remember that I'm not a living volt meter," John grumbled, but picked up the box and found a clear space to sit on the floor anyway. They were silent for a while, then John sighed. "I just got an order from the IOA to resume my post. There's this training thing Lorne and I have been planning for the last three months. Starts tomorrow morning at 0800. It's just ..." he trailed off and took out a crystal to hold it against the light. "They're giving in too easily. I don't trust them."

Rodney felt his own paranoid suspicion rear its ugly head, but really, there was nothing they could do. Nothing Rodney could do. "They've reinstated you completely?" he asked neutrally, turning enough to see John's face to gauge his reactions.

John lowered the crystal and breathed deeply. "Yeah," he muttered, barely loud enough for Rodney to hear. "Didn't even try and demote me or anything. That bastard Owens actually said they're going to consider a promotion."

With a frown, Rodney carefully removed his hands from the console and turned fully to face John. "They what?"

"Said I might be promoted," John repeated, slightly louder.

"But that's great," Rodney said, he remembered how happy John had been when he'd been promoted to Lt. Col. only too well.

John gently put the crystal back into the box. His face twisted oddly and then he took out another crystal to check it. "No, Rodney, that's not great. Owens was ready to put me in chains, throw me into a box and send me back to the SGC. He wanted to lock me away. That guy is not a man who changes his opinion easily, but he seemed almost happy – for him anyway – to tell me that. It gives me a really bad feeling."

"Huh," Rodney said, then turned back to the console. Some of the wires had come loose and he connected them quickly, so entranced in his work that he started when John touched him on the shoulder a few minutes later. "Don't do that," he snapped. "Sneaking up on me while I'm working is unfair." The grin John gave him was worth an early heart attack, so instead of ranting about John and possibly hanging a bell around his neck, Rodney smiled at him tentatively.

"They're all fine," John said while he placed the box with the crystals back in its place. "I'd help you put this thing back together, but I was always crap at that part. So I'll leave you to it. Lorne and I have to finalize a few things for the training session tomorrow."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"Four days," John answered, smiling brightly. "We'll put all the new personnel through their paces. Ronon's been especially looking forward to it. They won't know what hit them. Teyla's coming, too, and you can still change your mind."

Shaking his head anything but regretfully, Rodney said, "I don't really want to go. Running for my life when we actually have to is quite enough, thank you very much. But I'm sure you three will have tons of fun making the new personnel miserable." Then he remembered the call earlier. "However, I'm going to Midway Station to fix the sensor array in an hour and a half. The idiots there can't do it by themselves. I might as well look at some of the other systems while I'm there, though, or I'll get the next emergency call in a few weeks." John frowned again and Rodney hurriedly changed the subject back on John's planned torture session, "How many of my scientists are going tomorrow?"

"Oh, about two dozen I think. Lorne's got the final numbers," John answered with a reluctant smile. He so obviously wasn't over Rodney going, but was willing to at least let it slide.

"I'm sure you'll have fun," Rodney muttered, "even without me there." To Rodney's surprise, John reached out to him, running a hand over Rodney's bare right arm until the only parts of their bodies that were touching were the tips of their fingers.

"Be careful," John said, urgently.

Blinking, Rodney just stared at John for a moment before nodding slowly. "I don't know why you're so worried. I'm just going to Midway while you're going to play war with a bunch of people tomorrow. Really, you're the one who needs to be careful, not me."

John shifted a bit closer, giving him the smile Rodney generally liked to think was just for him. "We'll both be careful." Then he turned around and left.

Rodney allowed himself the pleasure of watching John leave, then returned to putting the console together again. Piece by piece slid back into place and when he checked his watch after he was done, he realized he barely had enough time left to grab a really quick shower and maybe grab a sandwich from the mess hall.

Working on Ancient machinery wasn't as grimy as working on machinery run with diesel, but the ten thousand years the city had sat inert at the bottom of the ocean had left it dusty and dirty anyway. The thought of having to go through the gate and spend another few hours on Midway putting together stuff other people had broken – because really, there was no reason the sensor array wouldn't be working unless someone had tried to 'fix' or 'upgrade' it – while he was pretty much covered in ancient … stuff wasn't pleasant. Having rinsed off with hot water to relax his back muscles and armed with fresh clothes, a few PowerBars and two wonderful chicken sandwiches, Rodney arrived in the gateroom just on time. "Dial Midway for me, Chuck, they need help with one of the systems and requested I take a look at it," he said as he ambled through operations, trying for nonchalant while his eyes ran over the work stations of the technicians stationed there, checking them subtly.

By the time he'd reached the bottom of the staircase the 'gate was activated already and all he had to do was step through. At least he knew most of the scientists in Atlantis – with exceptions, of course – were more or less capable. Otherwise, Rodney wouldn't be able to sleep from sheer anxiety that someone would blow something up while he wasn't in the labs. As it was, his people were slightly less moronic than the rest of the SGC scientists. He had picked them out himself, after all. Pausing for a moment Rodney looked up to Sam's office. The walls were clear at the moment and he could see Lorne, Sam and John sitting there, talking amiably. Then John looked over to him, as if he'd felt his gaze. Rodney gave him a little wave, eliciting a smile and then saw John's gaze shift to something off to the right. Tuned in as he was to John's moods off-world – self-defense, really, you wanted to know what the man who was protecting you thought of as a threat – Rodney turned and saw a Marine walk towards him. The Lieutenant grinned at him and Rodney threw a glare up at John, who at least had the decency to look slightly sheepish before looking away.

"Hey, Doc, the Colonel said you're going on a little excursion and need a helping hand."

Rodney glared at the Lieutenant whose name was eluding him at that moment. "Don't touch anything."

The man nodded and Rodney threw another look up to John, who was wholly immersed into his conversation with Sam and Lorne, then he took that last step through the 'gate, followed by his very own watchdog.

By the time he stepped out of the wormhole on the other side he'd stopped thinking about how terrible it was that John didn't even trust him to go to Midway on his own; instead his thoughts had turned to the idiocy of others. He wondered what exactly the technicians on the station could have done wrong with the sensor array.

Taking one of the sandwiches out of a pocket, he started to unwrap it just as the 'gate deactivated behind him and then took a huge bite, ignoring the Marine trailing behind him. Depending on how bad the problem was he'd definitely miss lunch. There wasn't going to be anything good in the mess hall that day anyway, but still. It was the principle of the thing. He nodded at the two Marines stationed in the room and made his way towards the exit when two different men stepped into his way. "Excuse me," he said with a frown and tried to sidestep them. "I have a sensor array that needs fixing."

They didn't move, but one of them raised a hand to stop him. "Please, Doctor McKay, the SGC requests your presence," he said.

Taking a closer look at the man's rank insignia Rodney glared at him full force. "Well, Sergeant, that may be the case, but Midway called first, and I'm not an intergalactic repairman, though if I was? They wouldn't be able to afford what I charge. I'm going to fix the array and then I'll go back to Atlantis and have my lunch. Now get out of my way." Anyone in Atlantis would have recognized his tone of voice as annoyed and near anger, these two were most likely the most stupid specimen the SGC could have found, because they didn't budge. "I said–" Rodney started, only to stop in his tracks when the 'gate from the Milky Way network started dialling out. "What the hell? That shouldn't happen. Is the quarantine protocol broken? I'll have to have a look at that while I'm here." He turned back to the two Marines as the wormhole engaged and dropped his sandwich in surprise when the two men seized him and dragged him backwards to the 'gate.

"Stand down," the man John had sent with him said and Rodney realized with consternation that he'd gripped his P-90 tightly. "Doctor McKay is going no-where, he's here to–" he didn't get to tell them what Rodney was there for, one of them men had pulled a Zat and shot the Lieutanant once, the energy skittering over his body as he fell to the floor, stunned.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rodney asked with an overwhelming feeling of hysteria.

"You really are needed at the SGC, Doctor McKay," the same man answered in an exasperated tone of voice as if he'd expected Rodney to simply say meekly 'yes' and do as he was told.

Before Rodney could answer, they let go of him and pushed him backwards through the gate. He let out a startled squeak when he landed on his ass in the gateroom, looking at the Earth 'gate as the Iris swirled into position over it.

"McKay?" Jack O'Neill said from behind him and he sounded as surprised as Rodney felt. "What are you doing here?"

Rodney picked himself up off the ground and turned around. O'Neill was in the company of General Owens and Richard Woolsey. A very bad feeling started to gather in the pit of Rodney's stomach. Very bad indeed. "I have no idea. Two of your people stunned the Marine John sent with me to Midway and then practically picked me up and threw me into the wormhole. Quarantine protocol was broken and now I'm here. I'd very much like to know what the hell is going on," he bit out, crossing his arms over his chest to show them exactly how displeased he was.

"What?" O'Neill asked, surprised. "Who stunned who?"

Owens smiled falsely at him and Rodney felt the little hairs in his neck stand up when in a sudden flash of realization he knew exactly what he was doing on Earth. "Oh my God, how stupid are you people?" he asked in exasperation and threw up his arms. Sometimes he really lost all faith in humanity. "When John finds out he'll be furious. He'll come here and you'll be so very sorry."

"That's what we're hoping he'll do. Sheppard will follow you, yes. But I think you are mistaken. He's the one who will be sorry," Owens answered, the smile never leaving his face. Woolsey, next to him, looked decidedly nervous but stayed silent. "Please, Richard, bring Doctor McKay to the VIP suit we've prepared for him."

Stunned into speechlessness, Rodney allowed one of the Marines to grab hold of his arm and drag him after Woolsey, who was in turn flanked by two marines while another set took position behind him. Like he could actually do something. It was laughable. There was no way Rodney could take on one Marine in hand-to-hand combat Never mind two. Five was definitely overkill in his case.

He could still hear O'Neill talking to Owens behind him, both their voices rising loud enough so they followed Rodney's little procession into the hallway. He just knew that O'Neill had been left out of the loop. Oh joy. He gave his military escort – five, ha! – a once-over. They'd probably expected him to resist. Rodney just balled his hands into fists. John, Telya and Ronon had taught him some hand-to-hand and how to use his weapons, both handgun and P-90, but he was no match for a trained soldier. _"If you're ever caught, don't fight, Rodney,"_ John had said, only once, but very early on, _"do what they say and shut the hell up so they don't notice you. Then you wait for me."_ Leaving aside the fact that that was exactly what Owens wanted, Rodney believed in John. He'd be furious and Rodney had no idea what John was going to do. John had become ridiculously protective of him lately and while Rodney didn't know exactly how powerful John was now, he'd seen him recharge the ZPM and Rodney had a pretty good idea just how much energy that took. There was no doubt that this was going to end badly. "John won't like this," Rodney told Woolsey archly.

"He doesn't have to," Woolsey answered, "all he has to do is comply with our wishes."

"You really don't know anything," Rodney tried to reason again, "if you don't let me go he's going to come here and it won't be to do what you want or to answer your questions."

Woolsey just gave him a nervous chuckle.

They really had no idea what they were getting themselves into. No idea at all.

Ooo00O00ooO

"Putting them together in groups like that is a great idea," Sam said and John had to keep hold of his temper. She was really trying, John knew that. Still, he felt a lot of residual resentment due to the way she'd sold him out. "If this mission goes well we should make it a mandatory training course for all personnel every six months. It'd certainly increase teamwork, don't you think, John?"

"Yes," he answered her through clenched teeth and saw her wince. She'd tried to tell him that she was sorry at least five times. And he'd grudgingly accepted her apology as well, but that didn't mean he had to forgive and forget. In time, he would at least forgive her. After all, she was only human and he knew how much science meant to her. She was just like Rodney in that respect. "Sounds good," he added, trying to make his voice sound normal. From Sam's expression he hadn't quite succeeded. Well, these things took time.

"We–" she started to say, but broke off when the 'gate started dialing.

John jumped up and was out of the door before her and Lorne, glad there was something that got him out of that pointless meeting. He was standing behind Chuck when the wormhole burst into existence.

"It's Midway station," Chuck said and John didn't need to see his face to know he was frowning. "But we just dialed out to them, I'm sure Doctor McKay can't be finished with the repairs yet."

"_Atlantis, this is Midway station, we have a message for you from the IOA."_

John had never heard the voice before, but the formality of the tone made his insides clench with fear. Something had happened. To Rodney. He was fairly sure of that. Only peripherally aware of Lorne and Carter flanking him, John motioned for Chuck to open a channel and cleared his throat that had closed up. "This is Colonel Sheppard, what is your message?" he asked evenly.

"_Colonel Sheppard, General Owens sends his greetings. The IOA wants you to stand by for transport to Earth at their command. You're being recalled."_

Feeling the strong urge to bang his head against the nearest wall John closed his eyes. He felt tense all over and there was an undertone to the guy's voice that told him there was another shoe, one that hadn't dropped yet. Something they could hold over him. "I think I was quite clear in my answer to that in our … meeting," John told the man slowly, as if speaking to someone with limited intelligence. "Or at least I thought I was. Let me clarify for the IOA again: I am not – nor will I ever be – coming to Earth. I have commitments here that I will not abandon. Can you tell them that or should I give you my message in shorter sentences with words containing two or less syllables? Let me try: no. Better?" He'd thought he'd worked through the anger, but apparently he hadn't because it was back full force. Everybody in the command room was staring at him, he could feel their gazes, but he didn't really care. The IOA and General Owens were seriously trying his patience and his goodwill. If they weren't very careful both would be gone sooner rather than later.

"_I'm afraid that isn't an option, Colonel Sheppard. Doctor McKay is at the SGC right now and I'm sure he'd like to see you. General Owens wants you to know that Doctor McKay will be treated as a guest for now. That is subject to change if you should not comply to General Owens' orders. He wishes you to come to Midway Station immediately and submit to the security detail that is stationed there. You will be kept in quarantine and if you behave appropriately, you will be reunited with Doctor McKay once you arrive at the SGC."_

If he'd thought he'd been angry before then what he felt at those words went beyond what John had thought possible. The word 'rage' came closer to describing it, and at the same time he felt a clarity that he'd only ever achieved in the thick of battle. "Why are you doing this?" John asked and his voice sounded alien in his own ears. Calm and controlled, not betraying any of the turmoil he actually felt. "McKay has nothing to do with any of this …" he trailed off, and closed his eyes when his vision turned blurry. They had Rodney. If they hurt him, John would destroy them.

Sam stepped forward until their elbows touched and John had to suppress the desire to jump away from her, to put distance between him and the person whose entire fault this sordid mess was. "I demand that you return Doctor McKay this instant," John heard Sam say. Her voice betraying her anger in a way John's hadn't. Looking at her, he could see the splotches of red on her cheeks and the steel in her eyes. But also the guilt. She knew it was her fault and she really was sorry. For a moment John thought, _too little too late,_ but then he realized that she was going to fight for Rodney. And for John. And he smiled at that. _Humans. Contradictory and passionate to the last._ John turned his attention back to the rippling wormhole, his body trembling with tension and the need to do something. They had sent Rodney to Earth. Without his consent. They were trying to use Rodney against John. Trying to blackmail him into obedience. If he gave in now, they would keep using Rodney against him and John seriously doubted that they'd actually be true to their word and let Rodney go. Not just like that. Because while they were morons, they weren't stupid and they'd need Rodney to keep John in line. John was just about to add something to Sam's demands when the IOA representative spoke up again.

"Your request is denied, Colonel Carter. The IOA will keep Doctor McKay on Earth until Colonel Sheppard turns himself over to us for questioning and starts co-operating fully. After that Doctor McKay will be free to return to Atlantis," the man said and the only thing John could think about was what a fucking liar he was. If they let Rodney come back to Atlantis they'd lose their leverage. Unless … unless they thought he was helpless. "Once Colonel Sheppard is in custodial care of the IOA you can have your scientist back. That will be all, Colonel Carter. We await Colonel Sheppard's arrival at Midway Station shortly. Have a good day." With that, the transmission ended.

The anger inside of John turned cold in a way it had never before. Not even Chaya had enraged him like that. He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt.

"John, I'm so sorry," Sam said and turned to him as the wormhole died below them. Her eyes were wide and John could read the shock in them. "I shouldn't have …" but John shook his head and raised his hand to stop her from talking. It was good to know that she regretted her actions, but recriminations didn't help them at all.

Swallowing past the icy rage John closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe evenly. "No, Sam. I am sorry," he finally said when he was sure he could control himself well enough. "I warned them, warned you to not threaten me. They wouldn't listen. Now they have to deal with the consequences." He watched as she paled even further and felt a pang of fleeting sorrow at that. This wasn't what he'd wanted. Not at all. But they'd been on this path from the moment the IOA representatives and General Owens had set eyes on him and John was committed to walking it now. He continued speaking, "I told you I could take Atlantis from them, and I will. You'll still be safe here, but nothing more. They've made a big mistake by using Rodney against me like that. You have no idea what I'm capable of." John heard himself say, his voice lacking emotion. He felt unaffected by the look of sheer terror on her face and the whispered conversations around him. Already John's power was dancing underneath his skin, crackling around him like static energy and John didn't even make an attempt to reign it in.

"John, what are you doing?" Sam asked, no, pleaded, but John ignored her. He simply put his hands onto the console that held the DHD and ordered Atlantis to shut down everything but life support and the defense systems. Next, he disabled all 'gate addresses save the one for Earth, leaving the expedition with only one option: returning to Earth. They wouldn't be able to go anywhere else, not even for trades. The city was now completely useless to them.

John knew Radek and Carson would understand what he was doing. He'd told them – all of those who'd pulled close around him after Sam's betrayal – what he could do, what he would do. That he could lock them out of Atlantis' systems completely. Knew they'd be somewhat prepared. From now on, nothing would work for them. Gene carrier or not, Atlantis would be inert. No database, no equipment, no medical scanner. They could defend themselves in case of an attack and return home to Earth. That was it.

He looked at Evan, who was standing to John's left, still staring at the 'gate with something akin to horror and disbelief. John didn't acknowledge Sam as he said, "I am going to get Rodney back. And if they've so much as harmed a hair on his head, they are going to pay dearly. They'll be sorry they tried to blackmail me, as it is." John knew he needed to stay focused and in control or things would get out of hand. That was hard enough to do already and John briefly wondered if the fact that he loved Rodney had anything to do with his problems of keeping these raging emotions, his thirst for revenge, in check.

Turning back around to the DHD, John punched in the 'gate address for Earth and opened a channel when the wormhole had stabilized. "Stargate Command, this is John Sheppard. Open the Iris," he said, feeling oddly disconnected from his surroundings.

"_Negative, Colonel Sheppard. You are not cleared for direct travel. Report to the IOA personnel on Midway Station and prepare to go into quarantine,"_ came the answer through the speaker a moment later.

John grit his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. "That was not a request," John said slowly, enunciating clearly so there was no uncertainty on what he meant. "I'm coming through now," he finished and closed the channel. John knew Oniph and the others would take care of the Iris for him if necessary. This mission was of the utmost importance and they would never risk him getting hurt. Also, since he was one of them and outside of the rules anyway, interfering for him was actually no problem at all. He'd calculated it all through. Chances that the SGC wouldn't open the Iris for him were below five percent, negligible small, anyway. They wouldn't want to lose their precious pet Ancient. He turned towards the stairs just to find Sam in his way.

Sam looked at him and pleaded, "John, you can't go through, if the Iris is still closed ... you'll die. And the Iris can't be opened from this side of the gate, you know that. Please, John. They are counting on you wanting to save Rodney and complying with their wishes. If you go now, that's suicide. Dial Midway, please. I really don't want to see you get hurt or die … or ascend again."

For a moment John looked at her. He didn't need to tell her that whatever was happening was her mess, that she was at least partly responsible for starting all this. And that she hadn't cared much for his well being then. When she didn't move out of his way and stood there stubbornly, pale and afraid, but still courageous enough to block the way of an enraged Ancient, John relented. "I'm not going to die, Sam, but someone else might if they keep treating me like this. There will be no negotiations and if they stand in my way," he said, cocking his head thoughtfully while eying her up and down quickly, "they will have to face the consequences. I'm going to get Rodney back and I will make it clear, once and for all, that no-one fucks with me like that." They stared at each other for another heartbeat before Sam visibly swallowed and got out of John's way. John gave her a cold smile, then descended the stairs and walked towards the Stargate with long, sure strides. He went through the event horizon without hesitation. There were no thoughts about dying against the closed Iris on the other side for him, just his focus on what he was about to do. They'd thought the Goa'uld were bad? That the Ori were terrifying? They had no idea what a Lantean was capable of. The Ori were tied to their own galaxy, forbidden to come to the Milky Way by an agreement wrought eons ago. Priors were nothing compared to John. Adria, the Orici, came probably closest to what John was and the IOA would regret making him angry.

He didn't even stumble when he came out of the wormhole on the other side, but just stood there at the top of the ramp while everybody stared at him in open disbelief. _Huh, guess they didn't think I'd just step through without them agreeing to opening the Iris first,_ he thought hazily. Oniph must have opened it for John and he sent a silent thank you to his friend for saving his ass once again. There were Marines stationed around the room, they were aiming their weapons at him as John slowly walked down the ramp. A moment later Owens entered through the broad door, red faced and obviously upset. He stopped not far from John and snapped, "What the hell is going on here? How did you open the Iris and what are you doing here already? You are supposed to be at Midway." John just looked at him and took another step that brought him into the middle of the 'gateroom. "Stop right there or we will shoot you!" Owens bellowed.

As if on cue, more Marines entered the room, carrying various alien weapons including staff weapons, Zats, and even a Wraith stunner. They took their positions in a half-circle in front of John, aiming at him.

John ignored Owens, his gaze roaming up to the window that showed the control room, where everybody stared down at him in shock. They were undoubtedly getting Sam's report on what John had done in Atlantis right that very moment. Good. Everything was going according to plan. John would make sure he'd scare the hell out of Owens and everyone who had dared to interfere with John's mission. Fighting to keep his rage in check, John proceeded to walk down the ramp.

"Shoot, but don't kill him," Owens snapped and John allowed himself a bored half-smile. This idiot really thought any of his weapons could harm John. It was ridiculous. With an exaggerated wave of his hand John froze the bullets that had been aimed at him in mid-air, cocking his head slightly. _Matrix moment_ he thought and the part of him who was and who always would be John Sheppard was inwardly grinning with glee.

The Marines carrying the alien weapons fired a round at him as well, but the energy just danced along the barrier John had surrounded himself with, blowing out uselessly.

Owens' face went from bright red to deathly pale in a matter of seconds and John raised an eyebrow at him. "That the best you can do, Owens? Did you really think I was that weak? Tell you what: you wanted to play? Then let's play," John said coolly. It was good to see Owens blanch even further and take an involuntary step backwards. Not like that would save him if John had actually wanted to injure him, but there was some real fear there. The man had probably just realized exactly what he'd done and who he was facing.

Miscalculating a situation and misjudging an enemy was always a bitch. John snapped his fingers and the 'gate powered down as John disenabled the Earth Stargate by utilizing the emergency shut off his people had integrated directly into the 'gates. "Oops," John drawled, cocking his head to the left. He knew his eyes were communicating his cheer clearly enough. "I think I may just have stranded a few 'gate teams on other planets. Sorry 'bout that. I'll make sure they get the message it was your fault, though, no worries."

He could see the people up in the control room move quicker, now. Probably trying to figure out what was wrong with the 'gate. Poor, poor humans. So young and inexperienced. Before now, none of the Lanteans they had encountered had been out to hurt the SGC. At best, they'd been unhelpful and vague, more concerned with their non-interference rules than anything else. But not John. He'd do anything necessary to get Rodney back. Anything.

"What's next?" John asked his captive audience conversationally. "Ah, yes, I believe you have something that is mine. I want to see Rodney and I want to see him now. I swear, if you've harmed him in any way, you won't live long enough to regret it." John stepped closer to Owens as he said that, never raising his voice. Instantly the Marines moved in to protect the General, to keep John away from him. John just tsked at them and with a flick of his right hand lifted them all up. He held them suspended in the air, like he'd done with the bullets a moment ago, his attention already on Owens again. Maybe he should have made this point the moment the IOA representatives had stepped through his Stargate. Maybe he should have shown them the power he held, made sure that they'd never underestimate him. _It's a moot point now,_ John thought. _What's done is done._

"We'll find a way to take you down," Owens told him with venom in his voice, "and then you'll regret the day you dared to threaten me."

John could hear the real fear underneath the anger and the bluster and smiled at Owens, who was visibly taken aback. "I don't think so," he replied. "You still seem to be under the impression that you can stop me. What will it take for you to understand that I will never bow to the will of the IOA? Not through force, not through threats, and definitely not through blackmail. You think you are powerful because you defeated the Goa'uld? You're not. If it hadn't been for advanced technology that fell into your hands you'd still be chained to this planet like the children that you are. Without the Stargates my people seeded all over the galaxies you would still just be killing each other on your own small planet. You've stumbled from planet to planet, believing you are doing the right thing. You've sent people to Atlantis without knowing what was waiting for them there. You sit here, on Earth, judging the people who have to fight the monsters for you, telling them you'd have done a better job in their stead. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Owens. If you had been in Pegasus during that first year, you would never have survived. You'd have died, after offering the location of Earth to the Wraith on a silver platter." His voice had risen through the course of his lecture and John didn't even know why he said any of that. It wasn't like any of the people here cared about what John thought. They wanted to have what he represented, the knowledge he had – or they thought he had anyway. He forced himself back to calm and opened himself up, enjoying the surge of terror that came from Owens. "You think that I will regret threatening you? Then you are a fool. What did you think I'd do when you took Rodney from me to try and force me to comply? Sit back and let you walk all over me? That's laughable. I'm a soldier, Owens," he said. "I've been a warrior all my adult life. Both as Tural and as John Sheppard. You don't scare me. And you certainly don't intimidate me into surrender. This mess," and he waved around the gateroom, indicating the Marines still hanging mid-air, "is your fault. Yours and that of whoever in the IOA hatched it with you."

"How dare–" Owens started to say but John raised his hands, forcefully shutting him up.

"Enough of that. I'm not interested in anything you have to say. The only thing I want to know is where you have Rodney. You will bring him here, now, and if you co-operate, I might not shut down your Stargate permanently. If you don't, then I swear this installation will be nothing but a smoking hole in the fucking ground after I'm done, do we understand one another?" John asked. He was just about to say more when General O'Neill entered the room with Daniel Jackson in tow. Both of them looked calm, but determined and ignored the floating Marines completely.

"Hey, John, I see you've heard the news already, huh? Why don't you let the men down and we'll talk about this? You know they're just doing their job and I'm sure you don't want to hurt anybody. Come on, let's go see McKay and have a beer," O'Neill said, smiling a bit crookedly at John. He appeared completely unfazed and John's respect for the man increased ten-fold just because of that. When John didn't answer, Jack stepped closer, and lowered his voice, "Let General Chucklehead there think his many mistakes over in peace. He's in for a few surprises, isn't he, John? He shouldn't have underestimated you so badly."

John blinked at him in surprise. O'Neill was talking to him as if he were talking with an upset friend and not a raging Ancient who was about to take the base apart. Looking at O'Neill suspiciously, John asked, "General Chucklehead?" At O'Neill's shrug, John fought the urge to grin and continued, "You want to tell me you didn't know about this?" It was somewhat hard to believe, but the wry grimace O'Neill gave him in response told John everything he needed to know.

"No, we didn't," Jackson answered in his stead, drawing John's attention. The man had been ascended. Twice. And John could see the machinations of his kind all around him. "We didn't know and we don't agree with his actions. We just want to sort this out, okay? Nobody needs to get hurt." Jackson nervously pushed his glasses up on his nose and John could see how he was trying not to look at the men in mid-air all around him. But John could feel that Jackson wasn't afraid of him, more of what he could do. It was like Jackson trusted him not to punish the innocent for the stupid actions of one of them.

"He took Rodney from me," John informed them, the cold inside of him melting away as his anger became white-hot again, threatening to overwhelm him. "He took Rodney against his will to blackmail me. He planned to lock me up and use me for his own purposes."

Jackson looked relieved for some reason and John found himself lowering his shields a fraction further. He wasn't going to risk walking into a trap because these two looked so sincere. "Yes, we know that now and we're sorry. Really. But this was the decision of the IOA and some other … people, not ours. I'm sure we can sort this out without starting some sort of war. We're not looking for more enemies, John. Please," Jackson's tone was reasonable, it reminded John painfully of Elizabeth and Teyla and their diplomatic skills. O'Neill just stood there and nodded like he'd probably done on countless worlds while Jackson talked high tempers down.

"Yeah. What he said," O'Neill piped up and pointed at Jackson with a thumb. "Come on, John. You've got the upper hand anyway. Sam told us that you took control of Atlantis," O'Neill said and briefly glared at Owens, who looked horrified but was still unable to say a word. "You shut us right out, even though some people didn't believe you could actually do it. Told you he's an idiot. Now, let's take this party someplace nicer, what do you say? McKay's got some pretty cool VIP quarters. Let's go see him before he talks Woolsey to death. Alright?"

John could feel the sincerity from them, together with a tangled knot of fear, no, terror from the men around him. He allowed himself a moment to close his eyes. Yes, he'd been furious, but he hadn't actually hurt any of these people, nor was he planning to. O'Neill was right, they had just done their job, it wasn't their fault Owens had been playing with fire. Carefully, John put the Marines back onto solid ground and gave Owens a long, scorching look before he turned back to O'Neill and said, "Yes. Alright. Take me to McKay." He waved his hand in dismissal and allowed the people in the room to move – and to talk – again.

"The last word has not yet been spoken in this matter," Owens snapped behind him and John was just thinking that silence had definitely been an improvement in that man's case when O'Neill lost his temper.

He turned on his heel and zeroed in on Owens with terrifying speed, poking a finger in Owens' chest. "If I were you I'd shut up before he snaps your neck, you idiot. I suggest you go and sit down quietly in a corner, Owens, and think about what the hell you've done. The President will hear of this and I am sure he won't be happy about you endangering Earth and our peaceful relations with one of the most powerful people in Pegasus like that. You should probably consider retirement. I hear it's good for the soul or something," he told Owens with a false smile and a bit of the rage John felt burning inside of him settled down at that.

"John, Danny, let's go save Woolsey from McKay," O'Neill muttered and strode from the room without giving Owens another glance.

Ooo00O00ooO

"I need something to eat, I'm starving," Rodney said, crossing his arms in front of him and glared at Woolsey who sat on a chair as far away from Rodney as he could possibly get. "I'm allergic to anything citrus, so try and keep from killing me with the food." The room they'd put him in was quite nice, but Rodney couldn't really enjoy it. He was there as a prisoner after all and over the past few years Rodney had learned that even the nicest cell wasn't all that different to a dank dungeon in the whole loss of freedom department.

Woolsey waved at one of the Marines waiting by the door and Rodney changed track, now that his immediate needs were going to be met. "You have absolutely no idea what you've done, do you? No idea at all. John is going to take this mountain apart and it won't be pretty." Rodney wasn't sure if he should be happy about that or not. Sure, it was incredibly nice to know that John was going to come for him, no matter where he was, no matter what had happened, but what exactly John would be doing when he got there? Rodney wasn't sure. It was a very real possibility that John would be angry enough to actually kill everybody who stood in his way and Rodney really didn't want that to happen. Shaking off his feelings of unease, Rodney continued to verbally harass Woolsey, "What the hell were you thinking when you kidnapped me like that, anyway? No, don't answer that. Rhetorical question. Because clearly, you weren't thinking, otherwise you'd have realized that kidnapping me to blackmail John was an abysmally bad idea," Rodney snapped, irritably.

"He's an Ancient for god's sake. He's got most of his powers and he's not bound by the non-interference rules. Can you even begin to understand what that means? He can do to you pretty much anything he likes and there will be no punishment for him from his friends. He's got carte blanche. And you idiots made him angry." Rodney enjoyed the way Woolsey paled even more. Clearly, he had no idea at all what the consequences of kidnapping Rodney could be. Woolsey and Owens and their little friends probably hadn't thought about what could happen to the SGC or Earth in general if their hideously stupid plan backfired. "I really don't want to be in your place when he gets here," Rodney concluded with a glare at Woolsey and got up to pace the length of the room. Even though it was one of the VIP suites, it wasn't exactly huge, but definitely bigger than the personnel quarters in the mountain.

Woolsey chose that moment to seize the break in Rodney's ranting to answer back. "But surely he will see that what we did was all with the best intentions for our people and the whole planet in mind. He would not harm members of the military he belongs to. Or innocent people. Not just to get revenge, would he? Colonel Sheppard called himself a protector. Certainly that means he will not just harm innocents," Woolsey said and he sounded like he actually believed that, even though he was now dangerously pale.

Rodney stopped in the middle of the room and stared at him, lost for words for just a moment. Then he sneered at Woolsey. "Yeah, I'm sure he wouldn't hurt innocents. Problem is, I don't see any innocents here, do you? This is a military installation and the ones in charge deceived him. You people tried to use his friendship with me against him. That makes you guilty. There's no telling what he'll do, I won't even try to guess, but I'm sure it won't be pretty," Rodney told Woolsey and he took great delight from it. He was absolutely certain John would find a way to come and get him. Take him back home, back to Atlantis. And even though that was all Rodney wanted right then, his mind shied away from the multitude of possibilities on how exactly John might accomplish it.

What worried Rodney most was that he had no idea what the consequences were going to be. Both the kidnapping and John's rescue mission would have a huge impact on the relationship between John and Earth and … Rodney didn't want them to be enemies. Earth was still kind of his home. _The home that was,_ flitted a thought through Rodney's head and he frowned at it. Jeannie and Madison were on Earth. And Kaleb. If the SGC declared John an enemy, then it would all escalate. John would take Atlantis away from them, send the expedition home. And while Rodney didn't particularly like people – they were much too stupid to exist some days anyway – Rodney had gotten used to some people. He'd kind of miss Radek. And Sam. And maybe a few of the others. So really, that wasn't something Rodney wanted to happen.

He was just belaboring the implications of what that meant to his sanity when the door opened behind him and Rodney whirled around to face it, hoping it was Owens, telling him he could go. It was General O'Neill, though, who entered the room with Daniel Jackson and John in tow. If Rodney hadn't known John so well he wouldn't have noticed just how furious he was, his face was so neutral it was unnatural. But Rodney could see it in the way his eyes gleamed dangerously and were squinted just that little bit. In the stiff way John held himself, hand close to his sidearm and his fingers twitching a bit now and then. It was easy once Rodney knew what to look for. The moment John saw Rodney, he rushed forward and the anger vanished in favor of what was obviously relief. He hugged Rodney, burying his face in Rodney's neck, the other people in the room seemingly forgotten.

Rodney gasped when John squeezed him uncomfortably tight, but didn't try to dislodge him. Instead, he gave John a moment, patting him on the back rather awkwardly, worrying about their audience and what it could mean to John. Jail time in Leavenworth at worst and a dishonorable discharge at best. When his vision started to get funny, though, he tried to wriggle out of the hard grip. "John, John, you're suffocating me," he panted, starting to panic.

John let him go as abruptly as he had wrapped himself around him, looking at him with worry. "Rodney, are you alright? They didn't hurt you, did they?" John asked, mustering him intently. He went so far as to hold him at arm's length and run his hands over Rodney's upper body to check manually for injuries.

Speechless at the streak of over protectiveness, Rodney then started batting away John's hands. "Stop that, John, they didn't hurt me," he said, acutely aware of O'Neill's smirk and Jackson's smile. Rodney wished John would realize who was in the room with them and stop behaving like a mother hen. "Maybe they're not complete morons after all. However, you just did a very good job of cutting off the oxygen to my very valuable brain. Can you try not to break me? Also, I'm hungry. Could we go now and find–" Rodney's complaint was cut short by John who had been giving him an exasperated smile and now just cupped Rodney's face in his hands and kissed him. Either he didn't care that they weren't alone, or he was completely ignoring it.

Rodney couldn't help but give in to the kiss. He could feel the slight tremors running through John's body and realized that John hadn't just been furious. He'd most likely been scared to death by the thought that Rodney could be hurt. Finally, Rodney couldn't stand it anymore and ended the kiss by pushing John away a bit; their lips still awfully close as John refused to budge further. John gave him a beaming smile, his eyes glittering with mirth instead of anger now. Rodney threw up his hands and gave up protecting John from his own stupid ideas, "I'm fine, John, I'm really fine. Now, could you please feed me?" He felt a little faint with hunger and he knew that if he didn't eat soon he'd start shaking like a leaf. "Also," he added in a whisper, "there are people here. And you're kissing me. Did you take leave of your senses?" From John's scrunched up expression Rodney knew he was very close to bursting out into laughter. Somebody cleared their throat and Rodney looked over John's shoulder straight at O'Neill.

"Um, could we cut the lover's reunion thing short? This is still a military base and technically, you're still a member of the Air Force, John," O'Neill said, his voice dry and his face turned away from them. As if he only had to do something about it if he actually looked into their direction. The man had always been a bit odd in Rodney's opinion. Odd, but just like John one of the best military officers Rodney had ever met in his rather long association with the US Military. Still, Rodney flinched and would have put some space between John and himself if John hadn't still been holding him. This day was just getting worse and worse. At least Woolsey was nowhere to be seen any more. He must have taken the chance and left while John's focus was on Rodney. So he wasn't entirely stupid, then. _Good for him,_ Rodney thought with venom.

"I don't think that's a problem, Jack," John said and half-turned to look at O'Neill with a raised eyebrow. The use of O'Neill's first name had clearly been deliberate and John didn't let go of Rodney, either.

O'Neill gave John another dry grin and cleared his throat. "Well … certainly not for me, but let's keep it down anyway, alright?" He shrugged with one shoulder as if to say it wasn't really all that important to him. "You know, complicating things and all that. I'm all for–" The door burst open and Owens barged into the room, five Marines with alien weapons on his heels. They spread out behind Owens, pointing their guns at John. "What the hell?" O'Neill asked, his expression incredulous. "Stand down," he hissed through clenched teeth and Rodney figured he was more than just a bit angry.

But Owens didn't even acknowledge O'Neill and his men didn't so much as twitch. "Stun everybody, they're obviously being influenced by Sheppard," Owens barked and Rodney – who'd had a few experiences with plenty of volatile situations – allowed John to push him to the ground where he stayed in a boneless sprawl. Jackson and O'Neill weren't quite so lucky; even as John leapt towards them, the Marines shot and both of them got hit, going down with two loud thuds that made Rodney's head hurt in sympathy. The weapon was completely ineffective against John at least, who was surrounded by a shimmering aura of what had to be pure energy. Lying there, Rodney couldn't do more than watch one of the Marines take aim and shoot at him, but the same barrier that had flickered around John like a second skin flared up in front of Rodney's eyes and let the ray of … whatever it was they were shooting at him flitter harmlessly around him. Rodney watched in fascination as John moved around the room with deadly grace, disarming the Marines one by one, sending them to the floor with what looked to be an odd mixture between some of Teyla's stick fighting techniques and what Rodney had seen some of the Marines practice.

Picking himself up from the floor, Rodney went to kneel next to Jackson and O'Neill. The two of them looked unharmed, they breathed evenly and easily. Apart from their eyes, they didn't seem to be able to move, though. "They're still conscious," Rodney told John before he was yanked backwards and up at the same time, an arm banded around his throat like steel. At his back wrenching painfully, Rodney gasped and John whirled to look at him and froze. A clicking noise and the press of cold metal against Rodney's temple were terrifyingly familiar. "Let me go," Rodney said, but the arm around his throat tightened and he had to struggle to breathe.

"Shut up," Owens hissed into his ear, "and don't move, or I'll put a bullet into your brain." Rodney went still in Owens' grip as he felt his face go cold. The man was totally insane. Certifiable. "Good boy," Owens praised him in an odd tone of voice, but didn't loosen his hold on Rodney. "Now, Sheppard, who has the upper hand? I saw your disgraceful display on the surveillance monitors and I can't believe that O'Neill didn't just take his sidearm and shoot you where you stood. I've read your service record. Unfit to be a soldier is the nicest thing I can say about you. You're also a liar, committed treason and you probably like getting it up the ass." His voice had risen to an unbearable level and Rodney's ears were ringing. "If you weren't so important," Owens spat like it was a curse word, "I'd put you in front of a firing squad."

John wasn't looking at Owens, he was looking at Rodney. His expression was unreadable, but Rodney could interpret what John was saying with his eyes. _Trust me,_ John was telling Rodney. _Do what we practiced. Don't worry._ Rodney felt cold all over from fear and lack of oxygen. Silently moving his lips to form the words 'go on' Rodney closed his eyes, concentrating on getting as much air as he could for a few seconds, then locked his gaze with John's again. He was ready.

There was no nod, no tell, nothing. Just John suddenly moving towards them with a speed Rodney remembered seeing in the gym. Inadvertently tensing, Rodney forced himself to keep his eyes open. If he had to die, he at least wanted to do it while seeing John.

But the shot never came. There was no pain, nothing, just Owens' explosive curses right next to his ear. Then John was there and he forcefully removed Owens' other arm from around Rodney's throat and pushed Rodney out of the way.

Stumbling away, Rodney went to his knees from sheer relief, bracing himself against the floor with his hands as well. He breathed in deeply, air filling his lungs as he listened to the grunts of pain and the sound of flesh hitting flesh behind him. When his vision became clear again, Rodney pushed himself to his feet, he had to see what was going on.

Owens was kneeling on the floor in front of John with both his arms angled oddly and the superior expression that had never really left his face had been replaced by naked fear. And John stood there, pointing the gun at Owens' head with a steady hand. Blood was running from the corner of Owens' mouth and out of his nose, which was obviously broken. Rodney took a step closer, but he was afraid to disturb the violent tableau in front of him. "John," he whispered, terrified John would shoot if Rodney spooked him now. "John, I'm alright. Look, I'm fine, good as new."

John twitched a bit, but didn't look at Rodney. "He stole you from me," John said, his voice shaking, "and he was going to kill you." Rodney could hear the desperation in the words and the pain and he hurt for John.

"But he didn't. And you've got me back," Rodney insisted gently, taking another step closer. "Look at him, he's no threat anymore. Don't pull the trigger."

"Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't kill this piece of shit," John said, sounding rough with his voice shaking a little. "I warned him not to threaten me. I warned him several times. But he wouldn't listen. He's never gonna stop. He'll never leave us alone and I don't want to live in constant worry of what he's planning or if he'll manage to kill you the next time he tries something," John said tonelessly, as if he'd already made up his mind, finger tightening on the trigger enough for Rodney to see it.

"John please," Rodney begged, inching closer still. "He can't harm me any more. You've got him at your mercy. Come on John, you're no murderer. You could have killed him a dozen times over if you had wanted to, you could have had him drop dead the moment you stepped out of the Stargate. But you didn't do any of that. You don't want to kill him, John. I know you don't." He'd seen John angry enough to kill. Had seen the bodies of the Genii soldiers that he'd taken down in order to save both Rodney and Elizabeth. There was no doubt in Rodney's mind that he was capable of that kind of violence, but Rodney also knew that the simple fact that Owens was still breathing meant something. Rodney hated the man as much as he'd ever hated anybody. For making John do this, for forcing him to go against people John wanted to protect. For trying to use Rodney to make John do what they wanted him to do. But he didn't want Owens' blood on John's hands. There was always a price for this kind of thing and Owens just wasn't worth that. Ancient or not, Tural or John, he was still human, could still feel remorse, could still have nightmares.

Rodney hoped he would get through to his enraged lover, hoped John wouldn't kill Owens and complicate the negotiations Rodney was sure would fallow this whole sordid mess. Something had to give, and soon. There would need to be talks, and Rodney really hoped John hadn't killed anyone yet, hadn't made things more complicated than they already were going to be. He didn't want John to be declared the enemy, didn't want the situation to get out of hand completely. To Rodney's great surprise, a blinding white light flashed through the room and a second later, the Ancient Rodney had first met on Atlantis a few weeks back – Oniph – appeared next to Owens.

Oniph nodded to Rodney in greeting, almost regal, his expression serious, before addressing John, "Tural, I know you are angry. You have every right to be, we know this. This man took your mate from you and threatened both Rodney McKay and your mission. Of course, it is within your rights to seek retribution for these offenses, but we beg you to reconsider your course of action. Listen to your mate. Alienating the humans here will not be helpful for you and your mission in the Pegasus Galaxy. They are children, Tural, and they are scared. They do not know any better. Lashing out in terror instead of welcoming you was to be expected. We knew this. I think this man has learned his lesson. Let his own people judge the morality of his actions today." Oniph spoke with calm, even words and – to Rodney's great relief – John relaxed gradually, even though he didn't lower his weapon.

It was working, but it just wasn't enough. Trying to think of something that would make John lower his weapon, Rodney finally said, "He's right, John. Please put that gun away. I'm fine, see? He didn't hurt me. I'll be alright, I just want to leave. And … I'm hungry. Hungry and tired. I just want to go home, okay?" Rodney saw John's arm drop a little and decided to up the ante. Rodney would use John's protective streak to shift the focus to himself rather than Owens. Giving his voice a slightly exhausted and miserable tone, Rodney went on, "Can you take me home, John? I miss Atlantis. And I'm a little jittery. I'd like to lie down and get some rest. Come on, everyone is probably worried sick by now. We really should get back. I just want to leave, alright? Let O'Neill and the others deal with this idiot. He's not worth the trouble. We could be home in time for dinner."

For a long moment, nothing happened. Owens didn't move, didn't make a sound other than breathing harshly through his mouth. Oniph didn't move either, didn't even seem to blink as he patiently waited for John's decision. After what felt like an eternity, John finally looked away from Owens and over to Rodney, his searching gaze taking in every detail as if to make sure Rodney was truly unharmed.

"I'm fine, John, just tired," Rodney repeated in response to the look John gave him and finally the burning rage in John's eyes dimmed. He slowly let the gun sink, and Rodney released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Maybe everything would be alright after all.

John looked back at Oniph, the tension left his shoulders and his bearing went from ready-to-shoot to something akin to relaxed. "You're right. He's not worth it," John spat and finally – finally – there was emotion back in John's voice. There was so much disgust audible now that Rodney flinched involuntarily. "But if any of them ever threaten Rodney again, if any of them harm Rodney, all bets are off. Rodney's mine. Atlantis is mine. They try anything shifty, I'll make them pay," John secured the weapon and tossed it to the floor carelessly.

The ancient inclined his head and replied, "Your decision is reasonable and sound. Take good care of yourself and Rodney McKay, Tural. There is much left for you to do in Atlantis. Your mission is not yet completed. Just know that we are proud of you and we approve of the mate you've chosen." He looked at Rodney now with a slight smile, which for some reason, made Rodney uneasy. "You are well matched." He smiled again, this time at John and then vanished in a burst of blinding light.

Rodney felt weak with relief when John turned towards him and stumbled into his arms, nearly toppling both of them over. John's face was ashen and he looked ready to collapse. "John?" he asked, unsure what was happening.

That was when Owens gave a yell of frustration and threw himself towards the weapon. Both his arms were definitely broken and pointing the gun at John must have hurt the man quite a bit. "You'll pay for that," he roared, but John didn't even turn around as he waved a hand and Owens was thrown back against the wall, the weapon a twisted piece of metal at his feet.

Rodney could only blink before he wrapped his arms around John. "Are you okay?"

"Just a bit tired, Rodney," he muttered softly into Rodney's shirt, only still standing because Rodney had wrapped his arms around John. They stayed like that for a moment, John's breathing shallower than Rodney liked, before John straightened, but there was a strain around his eyes that Rodney liked even less. "I'm fine, Rodney," John said, smiling at him lightly. Then he turned away and swayed a little, like he was dizzy and walked away from Rodney, who clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from grabbing hold of John again. Instead, Rodney followed John and stood uneasily behind him as John checked over O'Neill.

He jumped at a sound from the door and saw Doctor Lam and a medical team there, uneasily eying John. None of the men with her even had a weapon though, and as they hovered for a bit more, Rodney sighed. "Come on in, he's harmless, really," Rodney said and waved into John's general direction. At the incredulous stares, he rolled his eyes and added, "Unless angered." John didn't even acknowledge them, instead he was running a hand over O'Neill's body. When O'Neill's face scrunched up in discomfort and he blinked a couple of times before he squeezed his eyes shut, Rodney was almost irrationally glad. John got up and then hunched over Jackson and Rodney watched the procedure again with interest, mostly because John looked unsteady to Rodney's eyes. At least this time it didn't take so long and when John had finished, O'Neill had regained his voice.

"For fuck's sake!" O'Neill exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his head and Rodney winced, remembering the thud of O'Neill hitting the floor. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Owens?" He sounded angry and more than just a little annoyed. "Damn it, my head feels like someone stuffed it full of cotton."

Rodney grunted his sympathy, mainly because he really didn't know what to say to that anyway. Instead, he stood closer to John, very deliberately focusing on the back of John's head instead of looking at Owens. The quiet conversation behind him and the moans and pained breathing filled Rodney with a deep satisfaction, though, but he really didn't want to see the man. Not ever again, he was a bastard. He watched as John got up and straightened resolutely before taking a deliberate step away from Jackson, meeting Rodney's eyes. Rodney could see the effort it took John to pull himself together, to appear normal. Saw the weakness as John's eyes flicked around the room, assessing potential threats. With startling clarity, Rodney realized that John wasn't just exhausted, he was dead on his feet, ready to collapse. The only thing that was keeping him upright at that moment was his strength of will and his need to protect Rodney. With that in mind, Rodney cleared his throat. "We'd like to go home now," Rodney said and went to John's side, just in case John's iron will wasn't enough this once.

O'Neill turned towards them from his contemplation of what the medical team was doing to the men recovering around them and Owens in particular. "Yeah, sure. Maybe you'd like to stay the night?" he asked, but Rodney just looked at him, incredulous at the question. O'Neill shrugged and grinned at them, "Or not. Just trying to be polite." He held out a hand and helped Jackson to his feet, who looked worse for wear than O'Neill did.

The way to the gateroom was longer than Rodney remembered it, but maybe that was a trick of the mind because all his attention was drawn by John who kept listing a little bit to the left and gently bumping into Rodney. Something that'd look rather normal to anyone watching, but not to Rodney. They'd known each other well enough and long enough for Rodney to see exactly how badly off John was. He just hoped that the collapse didn't come before they were back home. As if that wasn't enough to worry Rodney, there were the looks of terror John got from everybody they met on the way. "What did you do?" Rodney whispered urgently to John at one point, when a Marine – a mountain of a man – practically fled rather than have John walk past him. John looked at him, a shifty look on his face and Rodney groaned. "Tell me later," he muttered and went back to watching John march next to him with overly precise steps. In a way, he was looking forward to the story, but he also knew he might not like it all that much.

Finally, they reached the gateroom. "Well, why don't you dial out?" Rodney asked, as imperiously as he could, trying to cover his insecurity and his fear. For John. For himself. For Atlantis. Rodney was scared of the future, of what would happen now.

O'Neill looked expectantly at John and when John didn't react at all he cleared his throat and grimaced. "John locked down our 'gate. The techs couldn't get it to work yet. Maybe John could …" and he trailed off, rising his eyebrows in a silent request.

"No more tricks," John said suddenly, his voice echoing unnaturally in the room. He looked at everybody who had come together to watch them leave, until his eyes came to rest on O'Neill and Jackson. He waved at the 'gate with his right hand and it started dialing by itself. "But I'm willing to start over. So when you're ready, we can start negotiating." He frowned deeply, "Not with the IOA, though, I think I'd rather go higher up than that." The wormhole burst out into the room, settling down into the familiar and very welcome rippling pond of blue. John nodded at O'Neill, an odd acknowledgement of respect. He started to turn towards the 'gate, thought better of it and looked once more at O'Neill and Jackson standing in the doorway of the gateroom. His face was blank, but his voice was hard when he said, "If any of you try to do anything like this again, there will be nothing in the universe stopping me from extracting a blood-price, just so you know."

John held a hand out towards Rodney, who – even though he thought it was a stupid thing to do and was properly berating himself for being a push-over – took it. They walked up the ramp together and stepped through the wormhole. Going home.

Ooo00O00ooO

"No, he's still asleep," was the first thing John heard when he crawled out of the deep pit of exhaustion he'd fallen into. It was Rodney's voice and he sounded annoyed with whomever he was talking to. "And no, I won't give him up to your clutches. He said he was tired and that he needed sleep … are you deaf? I said 'no', how hard is that to understand, Carson? … yes, yes, of course I'll tell you if he doesn't wake up by tomorrow … no, I'm not worried … okay, you do that. McKay, out."

John remembered their arrival in Atlantis, remembered how his city had cradled him to her and then there was nothing but darkness. "Huh," he said, his voice scratchy. It was only then that he realized how thirsty he was.

"John?" Rodney asked anxiously, sounding much closer now. A warm hand touched John's shoulder and Rodney repeated his name.

Clearing his throat was painful. "Water," John rasped. It came out mangled, but Rodney seemed to understand because a moment later a straw touched his lips. After a few pulls he let it fall out of his mouth, taking a deep breath. John's head started to clear. "Thanks, Rodney," he said, already much more aware.

"I was so worried," Rodney whispered, his eyes big in his pale face, with dark rings underneath them, like he hadn't slept in a while. "You just collapsed on the gateroom floor after the wormhole disengaged and I couldn't wake you up." John watched as Rodney reached out and closed his eyes as Rodney ran a finger down John's face. "How are you?"

John listened into himself with a frown before saying, "Still tired." He hesitated over what to say next, but in his weakened state, he could feel Rodney's worry leaking through his shielding and he wanted nothing more than to erase the haunted look from Rodney's eyes. "I overdid it a little. Basically, I used more energy than I should have. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? You nearly died, just to rescue me," Rodney said and John could see how Rodney was fighting tears. "Because I can't take care of myself. It's all my fault, I should have been more careful. If I'd listened to you then none of this would have happened and–"

John put a finger over Rodney's mouth and Rodney stopped talking. If it hadn't been so sad, if would have been funny. Somehow, when it came to John, Rodney tended to lay all fault at his own door. Sometimes John wondered if the people who always accused Rodney of being selfish and egocentric just never happened to witness one of those moments where Rodney took all the blame, or if they just willfully ignored them. Whatever it was, they were wrong. And now Rodney was doing it again. He was blaming himself for what that asshole Owens and the IOA had done. Which was wrong on so many levels John didn't even want to think about it. But he wasn't going to stand by and let that happen. It wasn't true, Rodney had been as much a victim as John himself and it wouldn't do for Rodney to berate himself like that.

"Rodney, I'm exhausted, not on my deathbed. Stop worrying, please. It wasn't your fault, None of it was your fault. I need some sleep and a few good meals and I'll be good as new. The ZPM incident was harder on me than this. Trust me, I'm fine," John murmured as he grabbed Rodney's collar and pulled him down for a brief kiss. Thankfully, Rodney just gave in and let himself be kissed, because John really was still pretty weak and wouldn't have had the strength to wrestle Rodney in. Their lips had barely parted when Rodney huffed.

"Fine? You always say you're fine, even when you've been beaten up and shot at. If you'd been fine you wouldn't have slept for nearly twenty four hours. Atlantis wouldn't still be–"

John kissed Rodney again, longer this time, until Rodney stopped trying to talk into it, stopped struggling. He tugged until Rodney was stretched out on top of him.

"Will you stop doing that?" Rodney asked, fidgeting uneasily. "I'm trying to say something here. I'm trying to tell you how sorry I am and you just won't let me." He sounded tired and frustrated, ashamed and guilty and it broke John's heart to see Rodney reduced to that.

John shook his head, pressing a reassuring kiss onto Rodney's temple. "No, I won't," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault, Rodney. They would've done something different if you hadn't gone to Midway. They'd found another way to get me to Earth. If you want to blame anyone, blame Owens and the IOA. It was their doing, not yours. Even I am more to fault than you. I should have given them an idea of what I can do, maybe then they wouldn't have dared to try and steal you away from me. I was so afraid they'd hurt you."

"But if I had been trained better, if I were a better … fighter … then maybe they wouldn't have been able to take me at all. I'm a liability," Rodney insisted and he looked so frustrated and annoyed with himself that John felt like punching something. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Rodney shouldn't have to feel inadequate just because some asshole had more brawn than brains and had decided force was the answer to everything. Now all of Rodney's insecurities, his lack of self-confidence were coming to the front and John wondered, not for the first time, who had hurt Rodney so damn much that he felt the need to hide behind sarcasm and scathing words. Yes, Rodney was a genius and he told everyone so repeatedly, but underneath that all was a man who constantly second guessed himself. John had no idea why no one saw that, besides John himself. It was quite obvious if one cared enough to look.

And right now Rodney was in a really bad place.

"I am glad you didn't try to fight, Rodney. Owens is batshit insane, there's no telling what he would have done if you had refused him. You saw what he's capable of. The thought of him drawing his weapon on you, shooting you, and I'm not there to rescue you … I'd have killed them, Rodney. Screw the mission, screw relations with Earth, if they'd harmed you, if he'd killed you, I would have destroyed them. The whole SGC, IOA and their pathetic little project. I was sorely tempted to shut down the Earth gate as it was," John confessed, pulling Rodney tighter against his body. It was crazy how much he loved that man. What he'd do to keep Rodney safe.

"You what?" Rodney asked, his head snapping up from where it had lain on John's chest, to look John in the eyes. There was a look between awe and horror on his face and John cringed inwardly.

"Well … I've told you that I'm outside the rules. Did you honestly think they could kidnap you and not face the consequences? That I'd let them get away with hurting you? I told you that we don't love easily and … you're it for me. And if I remember right, Oniph and the others approve of you. I'm not so sure about that bit, actually, everything went a bit hazy after Owens grabbed you," John said sheepishly and Rodney blinked at him, apparently completely lost for words.

When he didn't find his speech after a few seconds and just laid back down, John sighed a little. "Listen, Rodney, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to go all evil overlord on them, rubbing it in their faces how young and stupid they are compared to me. I just … lost it when they took you, alright? Everything just got completely out of hand when they threatened you," John went on, slightly worried about Rodney's silence. He hugged Rodney tighter to his chest, enjoying the feel and weight of Rodney's solid body on his own. "But I didn't hurt them. Not until Owens tried to kill you. I just want them to leave us be and let me do my job." John could hear the tiredness in his own voice but couldn't do anything about it. He really was sick and tired of all of this.

"You would have killed them if they'd hurt me," Rodney said quietly and there still was stunned disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, Rodney. Yes, I would have," John agreed just as quietly. He wasn't proud of the way he had handled the situation on Earth, his kind was known for better self control, but when it came to Rodney, all bets were off. John had done what needed to be done to keep Rodney safe and he would never regret that. Rodney was the one person John would do anything for. Anything at all.

"I never quite saw myself as the damsel in distress to your knight in shining armor – because I'm not," Rodney said, his tone light and teasing, completely at odds with the residual tension John could still feel in his shoulders, "but I certainly have no objections to you coming to my rescue. Maybe you could try to be as un-knightly as possible though?"

John sighed and tried to say something, but Rodney lifted his head again and beat him to it. "No," he said. "No, John, really. It's okay. I mean I'd prefer they hadn't kidnapped me in the first place, but you came and got me out. You didn't blow up the base or kill Owens no matter how much you wanted to. That's a plus. So really. I'm fine. You got me out. And I know you'll always come for me, so really. It's okay. I … I can live with that."

"I'm glad you think that way, Rodney," John said honestly. "Because as much as I'd like it to be otherwise, I don't think it's something I can change. This whole 'being in love' thing is a lot harder on my self-control than I figured it'd be. But that's alright. I'd rather be in love with you than have my old life back." And it was, John hadn't known what he'd been missing, back in his days as Tural. But now he knew, knew what it was like to love someone so much if hurt. And John didn't want to give up that feeling for anything.

It was weird how, here in bed, with Rodney on top of him, recovering from a more than unpleasant situation, John felt comfortable enough, secure enough to voice his feelings like this. The words that usually were so hard to say, the feelings he couldn't put into words at all, were spilling out of him almost on their own.

Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that he had almost lost Rodney for the second time in two weeks. John just knew he needed to say the words, needed to tell Rodney how he felt before the chance was lost and Rodney might never know. Rodney deserved to hear the words, not just be content with the brief look at John's feelings that he had gotten when John had pushed them at him on their very first night together.

"Alright, that's quite enough for now, Colonel. Being exhausted makes you mushy and we can't have that. It'll ruin your reputation," Rodney said and John could hear fond exasperation in Rodney's voice and how much John's words must have meant to Rodney. "Go back to sleep. I'll hold off Carson a little longer if I need to," Rodney murmured then, snuggling up closer to John. "He's wanted to get his hands on you since we came back through the 'gate. Not that he can do much scanning or testing at the moment. At least not until you give Atlantis back to us." Rodney paused for a heartbeat then he asked, "You will give her back to us, won't you?"

John didn't like the hint of insecurity in Rodney's tone. "Yes, Rodney," John assured him, "I'll unlock her again. Your scientists will get all their shiny toys back and Cason can poke and prod me to his heart's content. But you're right – I definitely need more sleep before that."

Rodney huffed and John could feel him already drifting off, so he closed his eyes and went to sleep as well.

The end.

**We're still working on part 7, so this is as far as the Total Recall story arc goes right now. Thank you so much for reading and we hope you enjoyed it!**

**Love,  
****Melinda & Cassandra**

* * *

**Melinda's Author Notes:** We really didn't plan to write this chapter. Honestly, we didn't. We were all set on going for fade to black and "they lived happily ever after, after the Wraith were gone" until the moment I said something like "Wouldn't it be cool if ..." and Cass went "Oh, oh I know what we'll do." And I was like "Oh yes, and let's…" Things pretty much got out of hand after that point. Until Cass said, "You do realize we are already in the planning stage, so are we gonna write this or what?" So there: 19 k monster. Go figure.

**Cassandra's Author Notes:** Writing this one was both harder and easier at the same time. Harder because there where patches that were incredibly elusive in writing, easier because we're now working together so well. It was lots of fun and finishing it was a wonderful. I think what gave us a huge push in motivation was that we posted #2 and #3 while we were putting the finishing touches on this one. We love these stories to bits and seeing the resonance we got was great.


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